


Home is not where you are from, it is where you belong

by Janeiina, YunaSabakuno18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Baggins are everywhere, Durins are treated like the best thing since sliced bread, Hogwarts AU, Hufflepuff!Bilbo, Multi, Pop Culture, Slytherin!Thorin, Tags will be added, The Baggins family are the Weasleys of Hufflepuff, The One Ring is a cloak, Thorin is a conceited prick, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3506636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janeiina/pseuds/Janeiina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YunaSabakuno18/pseuds/YunaSabakuno18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin and Bilbo really don't like each other. Until they do. (Better summary will be added as soon as I can think of one)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diagon Alley

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction in a long time and the first one for this fandom. I hope you'll like it! :)  
> Also a big thank you and all my love for my beta Janeiina =D

It was going to rain later that day.

This wasn’t anything unusual for the weather in London, but it was still an inconvenience for Bilbo Baggins. They had to hurry now, if they didn’t want to be caught in the rain before finishing their shopping trip in Diagon Alley. When they departed from Hobbiton this morning via Floo Powder the sun was shining and the day was on its way to become quite nice. But obviously the weather in their Shire was vastly different from the gloomy, clouded sky that greeted them when they stepped outside of the _Leaky Cauldron_ and into the back alley.

Normally Bilbo wouldn’t be bothered by a little bit of rain, he was born and raised in England after all; tendencies of nice weather in Hobbington aside, thank you very much. Just then, however, his parents had purchased him his very first owl and he wasn’t keen on it being drenched while they spend their first time together. Talk about a negative first impression. He made sure that the protective wrap around the cage sat a little more securely and stepped out of _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ and onto Diagon Alley.

He knew that it was unusual for a fifteen-year-old Hogwarts student not to own an owl of his own, but up until then, he had been all right with using the reliable system of school owned owls. Since his supply list for his fifth year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had arrived a few days ago, his parents had been adamant in their opinion that he had to be rewarded. He had been named as one of the Prefects of the fifth year for the House of Hufflepuff.

And Mervin was quite handsome, if you asked him. He was a Southern White-faced Owl, with a fuzzy white-grey coat, white face and amber-colored eyes. Smiling he quickened his step and followed his parents down the street in the direction of _Potage's Cauldron Shop_. His mother needed a new cauldron; the old one had started to leak a few weeks ago. Luckily, they only needed to make this one last stop before finally they would be done. Earlier that afternoon they had visited _Madam Malkin's Robes_ _for All Occasions_ to buy new work robes and as well as a new dress robe. In comparison to last year, he hadn’t gained any significant height, still being more on the short side, but his parents insisted that a prefect and a Baggins one nonetheless, should always look his very best.

The next stop had been _Flourish and Blotts_ , where he had bought _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk_ and the newest edition about magical plants in the South American Jungles as a treat for himself. He had restocked his Potions supplies at _Slug & Jiggers Apothecary_ and also had to buy a new set of glass phials. He still wasn’t sure who had thought that it would be a good idea to use them as shot glasses, but if he had to guess he would strongly suggest one of his Took relatives. Or maybe it had been the Brandybuck Twins. Their mother Mirabella was, just like his own mother, the daughter of the Old Took and her children, at least the twins, resembled her and her father with their adventurous attitude very much. He too had his Tookish tendencies, but since his father was a well-respected and collected Baggins from Bag End, he was more inclined in reining in those tendencies.

On their way out of the Apothecary they had ran in exactly those twins, together with their older sister Primula and their parents Gorbadoc and Mirabella Brandybuck. Primula too was attending Hogwarts in her fifth year, but unlike himself she was a Gryffindor. Another thing they didn’t have in common was the talent for Quidditch, or rather Primula’s talent and his lack thereof.

She was one of the Chasers on Gryffindor’s team.Long, dark brown curls framed her round face with dark green eyes. They both had practically grown up together, Brandybuck Hall only a few hills from Bag End, and next to Drogo she was his oldest confidant, companion and friend. Her younger brothers, the famous Brandybuck Twins, were also attending Hogwarts, even though they were one year their junior and part of Ravenclaw house. They both had unruly, copper hair, which framed friendly faces with intelligent, bright green eyes. Like their sister, they could flash a dimple at the corner of their right mouth, which they often used to try and charm their way out of the trouble they caused around Hobbington and Hogwarts.

The families did not linger for long, and with a wave and smile, they parted ways, shortly after deciding to meet for dinner at the _Leaky Cauldron._

After repeatedly running into friends and as well as members of the Baggins and Took family, Bilbo and his parents were once again stopped by a familiar face on their way to the pub that marked the entrance to Diagon Alley. Considering Bilbo’s extensive family, it wouldn’t really be a surprise to meet one of them every time he turned a corner.

 _‘God damnit’_ , he thought nonetheless _. ‘Sometimes it is quite bothersome to be related to half of Hobbiton.’_

It was his uncle Isumbras Took, the older brother of his mother Belladonna, with his son and Bilbos cousin Fortinbras. He was, like Bilbo, Primula and Drogo, attending Hogwarts in his fifth year. Like Primula, he was a Gryffindor and on the Quidditch team. He, unlike her, filled the role of the Keeper, though.

“Well, if it isn’t my little sister, her husband and their charming heir. You’re doing Hogwarts shopping too?”

“Yes, stocking up on supplies, buying new robes, the usual. How is life at Tuckborough? Anything new happening at home?”

“Well, since you’re asking. Fortinbras here was named the new Quidditch Captain of Gryffindor! Only in his fifth year and already leading the team!” 

“Well, that’s wonderful news! Congratulations, Nephew!”

“Thank you Aunt Belladonna.” Bilbo smirked at him behind his mother back and snickered quietly at the picture of politeness his cousin displayed.

 “You’re quite welcome.”

 “And how is life at Bag End?”

“Now that you ask, Bilbo here was named Prefect for the Hufflepuffs!” With Belladonna’s attention turned away from him, Fortinbras made a rude hand gesture in Bilbo’s direction, which only made him snicker harder.

“You don’t say! Congratulations, boy!”

“Thank you, Uncle.” Snapping to attention, Bilbo was now at the receiving end of a smirk and a snicker.

‘ _I should have guessed as much_.’

“We’re going down to the _Leaking Cauldron_ for dinner. Mirabella and her lot, Polo and his two terrors and Dora and Drogo will meet us there as well. Care to join us?”

“That sounds like a good idea. I haven’t seen that bunch in ages!”

Bilbo looked at Fortinbras, lifting an eyebrow while grinning. ‘ _Wasn’t there a family gathering two weeks ago?_ ’ he seemed to ask.

Fortinbras smiled in return and shrugged one of his shoulders. ‘ _You know how they are._ ’

While Belladonna, Bungo and Isumbras continued to talk, Bilbo spotted a familiar brown head heading down the street in their direction.

“Ori!”

One of three brown heads turned; he spotted him in return and grinned widely back at him.

“Bilbo! How have you been these last weeks? Had a nice summer break?”

“Yes, I did. I was finally able to catch up on all the reading I wanted to do. How about you?”

“I didn’t get all the reading time I wanted, but I did spend all off my time surrounded by books. I worked at _Flourish and Blotts_ for the summer.”

“Really? How was it?

“It was interesting, but now I know I don’t want to work in a book shop. I prefer working in the library.”

Behind Ori, Nori and Dori approached. They were Ori’s older brothers. While Bilbo knew them quite well because of their younger brother’s tales, they had never been formally introduced. Dori was a seventh year Gryffindor, while Nori was a sixth year Slytherin. Ori himself was a fifth year Ravenclaw.

Since Bilbo and Ori had almost all of their classes together and had matching interests, in other words books, they had been quick to establish a friendship.

While Bilbo and Ori talked, Nori turned and continued down the street.

“Where is he going?” Ori wanted to know.

“He is going to meet with the Durins. It’s not as if he hadn’t spent a whole month with them on vacation up North, but well. It’s not as if I can tell him what to do. Believe me, I tried,” Dori explained, all the while frowning in the direction Nori had disappeared to.

Bilbo’s mother chose this moment to appear next to him, having bid his uncle and cousin farewell without him noticing.

“Hello, Boys! Bilbo, your father says it’s time for dinner,” she sighed, “and you know how he acts when he is not fed regularly. Ori, Dori, of course you are welcome to join us!”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Baggins,” Dori replied, “but we still have to get fitted for our new robes.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe some other time?”

“We would like that very much.”

Belladonna nodded once and turned towards her husband.

Bilbo smiled at them. “Well, I guess I see you at the train station then.”

“Yeah, see you then!”

* * *

Thorin sighed. He hated shopping, especially getting measured for new robes. He couldn’t sit still for too long, the needles were poking him and the unfinished robe was itching.

Another reason he didn’t like shopping at _Twilfitt & Tatting’s_ was the constant tittering.

The daughters of Mr. Tatting would always magical appear out of thin air when he walked into the shop; and Thorin knew without a doubt that they were not yet 17, so they couldn’t apparate. If he wasn’t so annoyed with it he would almost be impressed. The only person he knew who could sneak around like that was Nori.

He always felt like a piece of meat while they ogled him from across the room while he was standing on a small stool. It was like standing in a spotlight.

Next to him Dwalin and Glóin were not faring much better. They too squirmed about on their stools and looked generally uncomfortable.

Thorin hadn’t seen his friends since they all returned from their vacation at the end of July.  That’s why he made plans with Dwalin to meet at the _Leaky Cauldron_ later that day. His initial plan had been to complete his shopping when he took Dís to Diagon Alley earlier this month for her birthday, but he couldn’t find the time to look for the things on his own list between keeping an eye on his little sister and carrying dozens of bags around for her.

At last, they were finished and stepped out of the shop and onto the street. Dwalin let out a long-suffering sigh. “Finally! This took forever!”

“Come on, don’t exaggerate,” Glóin replied to the whining complaint of his cousin. “It wasn’t that bad. We only needed a few new books, those robes and a few potion supplies.”

“Don’t forget the tons of food Thorin bought for his pet raven. Sometimes I think he likes Roäc more than he likes us.”

Thorin smirked. “Of course I do, contrary to you he never insults me, he takes care of my letters and he is really talented when it comes to flying.” He grinned in Dwalin’s direction and started snickering when his best friend’s frown deepened and a rude gesture was made.

Glóin rolled his eyes, seemingly used to this display of maturity, and snorted. “Come on, you two, we’re supposed to meet Nori at _Quality Quidditch Supplies_!”

After a short walk they arrived at their destination. Nori had yet to join them, so they took their time and examined the different brooms, uniforms and various other articles used in and for Quidditch.

Since Thorin had been named Quidditch captain he decided to reward himself with a new pair of gloves and a bottle of broom polish.

While he paid, Nori finally arrived. The seeker of their Quidditch team had come to the Diagon Alley with his brothers. Thorin knew that Nori was fond of his little brother Ori, but had a rather strained relationship with Dori, who was the oldest of the three. Their mother had passed away two years ago and they had been taken in by a remote relative with whom they stayed during summer vacation.

Since then Dori had been almost unbearable in his mother hen tendencies. Nori however didn’t react well to being treated like a child, resulting in the two of them arguing almost constantly: what to do after school, how to behave, what kind of friends to surround yourself with, almost everything you could argue about, so to speak.

“Got away from your brother?” Dwalin teased, never letting an opportunity pass to try to rile Nori up. “Or is he going to come after you ‘cause you forgot your handkerchief again?”

“Fuck off, ass face,” was Nori’s calm reply while he shoved him to the side to look at a pair of trimmers for his own broom.

Before Dwalin could answer with a shove of his own and start a fight in the middle of the shop - because he and Nori totally would, they had proven this fact often enough, and Glóin rather joining in than breaking it up - Thorin stepped in. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Nori, you need to buy anything else or are you finished?”

Nori nodded. “Yeah, still need to get some ink and parchment. And I wanted to stop by _Gambol and Japes_ for… other things.”

“All right then, let’s go.”

Eventually, they made it to the pub, and were taken aback to see a big crowd of loud and merry wizards sharing a big table in the middle of the room.

“Well, those people from Hobbiton sure know how to party.”

“Those Baggins’ look more like muggle grocers than wizards,” Thorin said. “All they do is eat and garden. Anyway, it does make them perfect candidates for Hufflepuff.” He wasn’t saying this to be mean; it was just an observation. He had been raised in a noble and well-respected family of wizards, who worked for the ministry and contributed to make the wizarding world a safer and better place. After all, when was the last time a Hufflepuff did something important that wasn’t related to their gardens?

“Excuse me?” came a rather annoyed sounding voice from behind him. Thorin turned around and came face to face with a boy seemingly around his own age. Well, not exactly face to face, for the other boy was only reaching up to his nose with his curly, honey-colored hair. From under the curls, a pair of angry brown eyes was looking up at him. The short boy continued, “What exactly is your problem with the Baggins family?”

Thorin furrowed his brows, looking at the boy with the round face and the rather cute button nose. “And who are you to even ask me that question?”

“My name is Bilbo Baggins.”

‘ _Oh no,_ ’ Thorins frown deepened. “I didn’t mean to insult, I only stated a fact.”

“Well, you did. And just now you did it again by saying that you ‘ _only stated a fact_ ’! Don’t you understand how that could be insulting? What would you do if I spoke ill of your family in front of you?”

Thorin smirked at that question. “Well, you wouldn’t. I am Thorin Durin.”

Bilbo scoffed. “I know who you are. So, what? You’re still an arrogant prick with no manners!”

“Why, you-…!”

“Something the matter over here?” Without either of them noticing, another brown-haired boy - probably another one of those Baggins wizards - had walked over to them. Behind him, there were three more boys, all approximately their age.

“No Drogo, everything’s all right.” Bilbo threw one last glance at Thorin before walking past him towards his family.

Thorin bristled. He wanted to give that Baggins boy a piece of his mind, but Dwalins hand on his arm stopped him. “Let it go, Thorin,” he said with a shake of his head, even though his frown clearly spoke a different language. He was pissed as well, that someone dared to insult their family name.

“They may look like grocers, but they clearly have the advantage of numbers,” Nori said. “And maybe consider: You _did_ insult his family.”

Glóin snorted before saying, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

With one last glare in the direction of the merry gathering, Thorin turned around and headed for the adjoining room where the fireplace, which connected to the Floo Powder Network, was located.

* * *

Before they could reach the table, Drogo grabbed Bilbo’s arm. “What was that about? What did Durin want?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“He was a giant prick. Let’s stop talking about it, I just want to forget this. I mean, it’s not like I have anything to do with him while we’re at school.”

“Yeah. And you’re a Prefect now! You could take points away from Slytherin for him being an asshole!”

“That right there is the reason why I was named Prefect instead of you.”

“Ha ha, very funny, you dork. Let’s go before there’s no more food left!”

Bilbo laughed. “The horror!”

 


	2. There and...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Train ride, more of Bilbo's relatives and references! :)

Bilbo always closed his eyes while pushing through the wall at Platform 9 ¾.

He knew how silly this notion was, but since his first train ride to Hogwarts on which his older cousin Adalgrim had told him that the gate was closed sometimes and other pupils had smashed against it, he had always been afraid of the exact same thing happening to him. So every time he approached the gate he prepared himself for a crash.

When he opened them again he stood next to the bright red Hogwarts Express. Behind him, his parents passed through as well.

“Let’s split up,” his mother suggested. “You can go and put your stuff away and we’ll go and see who of our relatives we can find. You’ll find us after you’re done at the front of the train, right?”

“Of course, I will. See you in a bit!” He answered before he started to move along the rails towards the Prefect train cart.

Once there, he stashed his belongings and Mervin in an empty compartment. Just as he wanted to go find his parents, Bell Goodchild entered the train. She smiled widely when she saw Bilbo. “So you’re the other Prefect this year? I should have guessed it would be the ‘ _well-respected Mr. Baggins of Bag End_ ’,” she laughed.

“Bell!” Bilbo responded grinningly. “It’s great to see you again! And congratulations on becoming a Prefect. How was your summer break?”

“It was nice. No pressure, no homework, lots of time spent with friends, the usual. And you?”

“About the same. I’ll see you later, I still have to say goodbye to my parents.”

“Later!”

They parted with a smile and Bilbo jumped onto the platform again. He spotted his parents relatively fast, surrounded by a herd of his relatives. He fought his way through to them – accompanied by many “Well, if it isn’t Prefect Bilbo!”‘s and “Have a good year, lad!”‘s – he hugged them both and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’ll write to you next week.”

“Alright, darling. Take care!”

 

* * *

 

They had been on the road for about an hour.

Just now Dori had finished his introduction speech as the new Head Boy. He told them about his expectations for all the Prefects and reminded them of their duties. On first glance he seemed rather strict but after a while all of them saw that he had a very caring and almost motherly nature. Bilbo had known that beforehand of course, since Ori had shared some stories about his big brothers before.

Bilbo decided that now would be a good time to make a quick patrol through the train before meeting up with his friends. He donned his robe, pinned on his Prefect badge and, with a quick wave towards Bell, left their compartment. 

When he stepped into the line of train carts where the other pupils were seated, he spotted the lunch lady a little stretch down the corridor. She was a woman with a slightly rounder frame and a friendly and inviting smile – and she was also his aunt Belba Baggins.  She was just serving a big guy with a brown Mohawk when Bilbo walked up to them.

“Here you go, dear! One pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, three Cauldron Cakes, a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and five Chocolate Frogs!”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” was the guy’s reply before he turned around and came face to face with Bilbo. Bilbo recognized him as the one who had been with Thorin when he confronted him at the Leaky Cauldron – Dwalin Durin.

Before one of them could say a word, his aunt had spotted him. “Bilbo! How are you, my boy? Your father already told me you had been named Prefect. Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Aunt Belba.”

Behind them, he could hear someone snorting, but when he looked over his shoulder the only thing he could see was Dwalin’s retreating back.

He chatted with his aunt for a little while before both of them departed in different directions down the corridor, the only difference being that Bilbo’s pockets were now full of candy – a gift from his aunt.

He continued to stroll down the corridor, frequently answering questions from younger students or greeting a familiar face he had spotted in the compartments.

Soon he stumbled onto a group of three young children, who were obviously first years. All of them seemed nervous and were sitting with their hands in their laps, as if they didn’t quite know what to do with them, or even less themselves. They were talking quietly to each other, but Bilbo could still pick up parts of their conversation.

“- don’t know.”

“But all of the others are wearing them. Shouldn’t we do that, too?” a brunet questioned.

“I told you I don’t know. Their robes look different though. They all have different crest on them. I saw a few different animals. And their ties have different colours!”

“That would be because they are in different houses,” Bilbo interjected from his place at the door.

It was all he could do not to start laughing out loud as their three heads whipped around as one and stared up at him with absolutely shocked faces.

“Hi, my name is Bilbo Baggins. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Want me to explain the robes to you?” All three nodded at the exact same time. It was almost a little bit eerie. “There are four houses at Hogwarts. Each house has a different animal to represent them. Tonight at the feast you’ll be sorted into a house as well.” While he explained, Bilbo took a seat next to them and started to give out the candy his aunt had smuggled into his pockets.

He stayed with them for quite some time. As it turned out once the ice was broken they had a ton of questions.

When he was finally released from their seemingly endless curiosity, he continued down the corridor of the train cart. He still wanted to find Ori, Drogo and Primula.

After a short walk he spotted Ori, sitting in a cart together with Sigismond Took, another fifth year Ravenclaw and cousin of Bilbo’s, while reading a book called “Percy Jackson”. It seemed to be a series, since Bilbo had seen Ori read those books for almost five years now. Since he did not want to disturb Ori, he simply smiled at his cousin and with a wave continued down the corridor.

When he was almost back at the train cart of the Prefects, he spotted Drogo and Primula in one of the compartments. They were sitting together with Fortinbras and Hamfast Gamgee, another friend of theirs and a follow fifth year Hufflepuff.

“There you are! We started to think we wouldn’t get to see you till the feast tonight,” Primula said as Bilbo slid into their compartment and took the seat opposite of Hamfast.

“You should be thankful I even made it this far! I met so many people on the way… And the first years had so many questions!”

Drogo’s eyes were widened in mock horror. “You ran into Aunt Belba, too?” Bilbo nodded. “Then you’re lucky she let you go at all. Remember how she talked to you for more than half on our last train ride?! Did you at least get some candy out of it?”

“Yup, she stuffed all of my pockets.”

Primula grinned. “Yay, candy! Gimme some!”

“Sorry, I’m all out. I gave it to the first years in exchange for my freedom.”

“What? How dare you!” she exclaimed. “You come here without candy? I’m hurt, Bilbo, I’m really hurt!” She sniffled, wiping a fake tear out of the corner of her eye. In that moment, Hamfast produced a Chocolate Frog from his trunk and gave it to her. Primula’s grin returned full force as she began unwrapping the chocolate. To Bilbo and Drogo she said, “And that’s why he is my favourite!”

Hamfast just rolled his eyes, “Everyone is your favourite, Prim,” which had all four of them laughing.

They talked for a little while longer until Bell poked her head into the compartment in search for Bilbo, as it was almost time for their arrival at Hogsmead Station. Hamfast, in the middle of explaining what new kind of seed he had bought during the summer, stopped talking when he saw her and turned a bright red as he stuttered out a greeting. Quite an adorable sight, really. Bilbo bid his friends farewell and followed the female Hufflepuff Prefect back to their cart.

 

* * *

 

When Dwalin came back from the candy-haul he’d been sent on because he’d lost theirs at a round of poker, his face was set in a sour frown, almost as if he had bit into a lemon. While frowning was Dwalin’s standard facial expression, this particular grimace was different.

“What got your panties in a knot? No more Chocolate Frogs for your cavity-inducing cravings?” came the prompt question from Nori, who seemingly had picked up on Dwalins mood, too.

“I just ran into that Baggins runt. The one from last week.”

Thorin just rolled his eyes. “So what? Did he glare at you some more?”

“No, his aunt interrupted before any of us could get a word in.”

“His aunt?” Glóin lifted his eyebrows.

“The lunch lady. Seems to be a Baggins, too.”

“Well, at least now the secret about her name is revealed,” Balin joked with a chuckle.

“You got to be kidding me! They’re everywhere, it’s like a plaque,” Thorin sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“What happened last week?” Óin wanted to know.

“Thorin, Nori, Dwalin and I were walking home after our supply run in the Diagon Alley,” Glóin began. “In the Leaky Cauldron there was this loud, really big group of people. All of them were Baggins. You know, this family who fills an entire Shire in the South?”

“You mean the famous gardeners?”

“I wouldn’t say famous…”

“I would,” Balin interrupted. “They are known throughout the whole country. Their gardens and books keep winning one price after the other!”

“Wow. Plants.” Thorin deadpanned.

“Dwalin hold me, I might faint,” Nori giggled.

“Shut up and let me finish my story, you buggers! So, we saw this group of people and Thorin is like ‘ _They look more like muggle grocers then wizards, perfect for Hufflepuff’_. And then this runt appears and was all like ‘ _Why are you insulting my family?_ ’ and then Thorin goes and says ‘ _I am not insulting your family, just stating a fact_ ’.”

At this point Thorin smirks. He still stands by that statement. Even if he hadn’t particularly wanted them to hear him, the fact that one did won’t change his mind. Gardening is not that great and it is no help in making the wizarding world a safer place.

Glóin continued, “Then the runt is like, ‘ _What would you say if I were to state a fact about your family?_ ’ and then Thorin answered, ‘ _I’m a Durin_ ’. And now here’s the best part: the guy just said, ‘ _I know who you are. So what?_ ’ Can you believe it? The nerve!”

“Well… I think he had every right to be mad. Thorin DID insult his family,” Óin answered deliberately.

Nori shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what I said.”

Balin raised his eyebrows. “Way to make a good first impression on someone, Thorin.”

Dwalin scowled at his brother. “Well, he was right. Those Baggins are perfect Hufflepuffs. They’re not like our family. We actually do something useful.”

“There are many people who would disagree with you there. How many Baggins do you even know? Do you know what they do?”

“I don’t need to know them to understand them. I heard enough from others.”

“That’s the problem, though: You heard some people talk about them. You should be a little more open-minded! Just because they aren’t doing something that you deem useful doesn’t make it any less so for the general public.”

Before Dwalin could respond, Thorin stepped in. “Let’s please just stop talking about it. It’s really not worth discussing.”

“We’ve arrived, anyway,” Óin chipped in. “We should gather our things!”

From the looks on his friends’ faces Thorin knew that this discussion was not over yet, but for now he was happy to forget all about it as well as the short wizard who had started this whole debacle in the first place.

 

* * *

 

The scramble on the platform was, like always, one big, unorganized mess. Some students greeted the friends they hadn’t met on the train, some already made their ways to the carriages, some second years weren’t quite sure where to go and in the middle of it all there were the nervous and slightly scared first years.

Bilbo and Bell started herding the second years, at least the ones who hadn’t been dragged along by the stream of people, towards the carriages. At the same time, Bilbo was able to see the giant form of Beorn standing at the other end of the train station and calling for the first years. Their mood seemed to become more panicked by the second. Bilbo couldn’t really blame them. Only illuminated by his flickering lantern, Beorn looked more likely to eat them than to escort them to school. But they all had to go through that experience, so no pity there. Besides, Beorn was one of the kindest people Bilbo had ever met – except for when you mistreat one of his many animals. He could be very terrifying if he chose to be.

In the meantime, Dori had split up the Prefect teams of each year: One should ride in one of the first carriages and oversee the arrival of the students while the other stayed back and made sure there was no trouble at the station. Bilbo had volunteered to stay behind, Bell would go ahead.

When finally the last pupils were taken care of, Bilbo climbed into one of the remaining vehicles, together with his cousins Posco and Willibald. The last person to join them was Dori.

While the coach drove up the bumpy driveway towards the castle, they chattered about their classes, the teachers and the upcoming Quidditch-Season.

Upon arriving at the castle, they headed straight into the Great Hall and to their respective house tables. He hurried over to the Hufflepuffs and sat down next to Drogo in the space they’d reserved for him, just in time to see the big doors open as Professor Thranduil entered the hall. Following his every step, there was a long line of wide-eyed first year students. They looked as if they couldn’t decide where to look first or if they were allowed to look at all.

Behind them, Professor Radagast carried a three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. He set the stool down in front of the line of students and placed the hat on top of it. All eyes in the Great Hall were directed at the lumpy, old hat. Then a crack opened near the brim and the hat began singing:

 

_"Good evening, ladies, gentlemen_

_And all you lads and lasses_

_I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_More bright than all your classes._

_A thousand years or more ago_

_That’s where it all began_

_Four wizards, back then quite unknown,_

_Designed a risky plan._

_To teach the willing children_

_All near, far, poor or rich_

_Together in one building_

_To be a wizard or a witch._

_Since even mighty sorcerers_

_Can’t stay alive forever_

_I was stuffed with brains and sass_

_In their stead to be clever._

_Maybe you’re in Gryffindor_

_Where they are as mighty as the biggest boar_

_And braver than a lions roar._

_Maybe you’re in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are the hardest workers sure enough_

_and as a badger just as tough._

_Maybe you’re in Ravenclaw_

_Where intelligence inspires awe_

_And all your skills are honed to not be raw._

_Maybe you’re in Slytherin_

_Where the ambitious and the cunning win_

_And where the hate be shed like second skin._

 

_Now come along and put me on_

_So I can see where you belong!”_

 

The whole hall started clapping while the hat bowed to all four tables. Then Thranduil stepped next to the stool and uncoiled a long page of parchment. “When I’m calling your name, you’ll step forward, sit on the stool and put the hat on.” He paused shortly, then read loudly, “Archer, Kelsey!”

 

* * *

 

As the brown-haired girl stepped up to the stool, Víli turned towards Frerin and said, “And may the odds be ever in your favor!”

“Okay… why?” 

Víli sighed. “It’s nothing. Just forget it.” Fortinbras leaned over the table. “I get your pain.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brand, Lex!”

“What pain?” Daín wanted to know. “They’re talking in those weird muggle references again,” Frerin grumbled, rolling his eyes at Víli who in turn stuck his tongue out at him and said, “They’re not weird.”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Brasher, Alycia!”

“Hey Víli, Fortinbras, did you watch the new Spiderman Movie?”, Lobelia asked from a little further down the table.

Fortinbras grinned. “Yeah, it was awesome! Why?”

“Did you see the commercials beforehand?”

“You mean the cat who was riding that vacuum cleaner?”

“Yes! My first thought was, Is this tumblr?”

“You have a tumblr?” Víli wanted to know. “What’s your url?”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Cotton, Tolman!”

Daín slipped a little further down the bench, away from the excitedly chattering trio.

“What’s a vacuum cleaner?” he asked his cousin.

“It’s a strange box that eats dust or something. I saw it when I visited Víli last year.”

“bitchinflowerprincess! What’s yours?”

Fortinbras grinned. “magicYOURass“  
Lobelia laughed. “Nice. Víli?” “lionheart. ”

 Daín turned to his cousin and raised his eyebrows. “What’s a tumblr?” Frerin shrugged his shoulders. “At this point I’m not even quite sure they’re still talking in English.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Denman, Mikey!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Diggle, Dina!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Eaton, Kirby!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!"

“Edwards, Lisa!”

“Four for you, Hufflepuff!” Fortinbras shouted. “You go Hufflepuff!” Víli continued.

All over the Great Hall people started laughing hysterically. Lobelia actually squealed with glee.

Daín turned to Frerin and opened his mouth, but before he could say a word Frerin interrupted. “No, I have no idea.”

  

* * *

 

“Thornton, Randolph!“

“GRYFFINDOR!“

“Thwaite, Nicholas!“

“RAVENCLAW!“

“Finally! We’re done!” Fortinbras grabbed his fork and knife and stared at the golden plates, which were placed all over the table. “FOOD!”

Lobelia lifted one eyebrow and stared at him judgingly. “In moments like this your Baggins is really showing, you know?”

He answered with a big grin. “And I’m proud and happy about it!”

She simply shook her head and turned to Frerin. “On a completely unrelated topic… Frerin, you think you can pass Herbology this year? Or will that only result in tears, despair and the retaking of the exam again?”

Frerin stopped mid-chew and turned his best ‘I-hate-you-please-die’ glare in her direction. She just smiled.

“On a completely unrelated topic,” Primula casually interjected from a few seats over.” Lobelia, you think you can finally talk to Otho without making the impression that you’re an evil bitch? Must be really frustrating to have your crush tremble in fear whenever he sees you.” She glanced shortly at Frerin who in turn watched at her in relief, trying to convey his gratitude with a small smile. Lobelia looked like she’d bit into a lemon and turned to sneer at her. “As if you can talk! You’re love life isn’t any better!”

 As the two girls started bickering, the boys inched further and further away from them. They knew from experience not to get between those two.

After the feast, when the plates were back to their shining selves again, Professor Elrond stood up.

“The very best of evenings to you! Now… to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you! Before we go off to our much needed rest, I have a few announcements to make.

For the first year students and all those who sometimes seem to conveniently forget our rules: The Forbidden Forest, as the name already indicates, is for all students off-limits. No magic is permitted in the corridors and Mr. Alfred would like me to remind you that the list with non-permitted magical objects has been expanded by the newest version of the Fanged Frisbee and can be looked into at his office.

Now to our schedule this school year.  Once again it is time for the Triwizard Tournament to be held at Hogwarts. Seven years ago, when the Tournament was held in Durmstrang, the winners were the students of Beauxbatons. I have high hopes for the performance of our champion this year.

You are all aware, of course, that no Quidditch games are to be played in the year of the tourney. However! Since, for the past years, both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have managed to stage the Triwizard as well as their own Quidditch Tournament quite successfully, the council of teachers and I have come to the agreement that we would like to try the same.”

The Hall erupted into chaos.

“Please, listen!” Elrond shouted. “This agreement comes, however, with one condition: If the behaviour or the grades of our student body are too strongly affected by this double burden, the Quidditch Tournament will be cancelled!”

Some of the students nodded solemnly, while others glared darkly at the hall, as if daring anybody to misbehave.

Elrond smiled one more time before saying, “I wish all of you a wonderful year and a good night’s sleep! We’ll see each other tomorrow at breakfast. I trust the Prefects will take the first years under their wings during the first few weeks. Good night, everyone!”

 


	3. I don't like green things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a tutor for Frerin :)

The first three weeks of classes were over.

In that time Bilbo had almost started to regret being helpful to the three first year students on the Hogwarts express. As it turned out, Hanna, Dina and Tolman, for that were their names, had all been sorted into Hufflepuff. In addition, they had shared their knowledge of his nice behaviour with the other new students in their house. From then on, whenever he met one of them in the common room or sometimes even in the corridors or the Great Hall, they stopped him to ask questions.

“Is Professor Beorn really a bear who got turned into a man?” _No, he is an animagus. He can turn into a bear; he wasn’t one to begin with._

“What’s an animagus?” _A wizard who can change into an animal at will._

“How do you become one?” _It can take years and is a very complicated process that requires highly advanced magical training._

“Are you an animagus?” _No, I’m not._

“What does Professor Beorn teach?” _Care of Magical Creatures_.

“Why aren’t the first years allowed to take that class?” _It’s an elective subject that you can take in your third year._

Just to name a few of their questions.

This whole interrogation happened during breakfast. He hadn’t been able to eat his usual share of food and was now, understandably, very cranky. Normally, a Baggins was a very balanced person, except for when you deprive them of their food. In Bilbo’s case, the Took side of him gave him a very short-tempered and sometimes even vindictive streak.

Thank goodness, he had Herbology next. If it had been History, Bilbo would surely have developed a migraine. He couldn’t handle Professor Saruman on an almost empty stomach. Together with the other students who had chosen Ancient Runes as their elective, he made his way over to the greenhouses.

Before the Second Wizarding War, the houses were taught in separate classes, only some were shared.  After the war, it was decided that the excessive separation and the fomenting of the rivalry between the houses couldn’t be continued. Because of this, all students of the same year shared all of their mandatory courses and attended them together.

Next to him, Ori was looking through his pockets. With a triumphant “Hah!” he displayed a biscuit wrapped in a handkerchief and held it out to Bilbo. “Here. You were kinda cranky in Ancient Runes, so I figured you hadn’t had enough breakfast.”

In that moment, Bilbo could have cried. He accepted the biscuit and said, “Ori, I love you. I really do. Please marry me.”

Ori simply grinned. “We tried that. It’s better if we just stay friends.”

A pair of arms wrapped around them from behind and a female voice asked, “Is it just me or is it really gay in here?”

“Ha-ha, Prim, really funny,” Bilbo retorted dryly. Ori continued to grin at her over his shoulder.

“How was Divination? Did Professor Elrond finally reveal anything about your O.W.L.s?”

“Yes, he held a speech about preparation and the cleansing of our aura before starting this new semester and a lot of other stuff. I didn’t really listen to him.”

Drogo who, in the meantime, had joined them and only had picked only up on her last sentence, clicked disapprovingly with his tongue. “Primula Brandybuck, that is in no way the behaviour an upstanding student like yourself should display, don’t you think?” It took all of two seconds for all four of them to erupt into a fit of laughter.

Just then, Professor Radagast turned the corner of Greenhouse Two and signalled them to follow him.

They were advancing to Greenhouse Five that year. Bilbo was excited, even if Ori didn’t seem to share his excitement... at all. As they were entering the greenhouse, Bilbo heard him sigh loudly. “I don’t like green things…”

Behind them, Frerin Durin joined into the sigh. “This statement speaks to me on a spiritual level…”

* * *

 

While the school year progressed, one thing became clearer and clearer to Frerin: He was not going to pass his O.W.L.s in Herbology. In his first two years at Hogwarts, he had barely been able to follow the class, but ever since his third year, he had to retake the exams at the end of every summer break that followed. With the workload for all his courses having increased immensely, Frerin was facing a huge problem. He was lacking so severely by then that he doubted that he would manage to pass the exam that time around.

At the front of the class, Professor Radagast cleared his throat. “Please clean up your workspaces and put everything back in order. For your homework continue the plant journal we began two weeks ago. Don’t forget, I will collect it as your first grade this year just before autumn break! Ah, Mr. Durin, would you be so kind to stay a little longer, please? I’d have a word with you.” Frerin and Daín both looked at Radagast promptingly. “Mr. Frerin Durin, I mean.”

As the rest of the class left the greenhouse, Frerin ambled up to the Professor. When the last of his classmates had left, Radagast turned to Frerin with a sombre expression on his face. The effect, however, was slightly watered down due to the bird poop in the Professors hair, even though after four years in this course Frerin had learned not to notice it. At least most of the time.

“Mr. Durin,” Radagast began. “We both know that Herbology has never been your strongest suit.” That was putting it mildly. “But I think I’m correct in the assumption that you want to pass your O.W.L.s in this subject, even if you do not plan to continue after this year.” Frerin took this as his cue and nodded solemnly. “Well then I’d suggest you find yourself a tutor.”

Frerin winced. “A tutor?”

“Yes, I think that would be best. If you want I can choose someone for you.”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary Professor. I’ll try on my own first.” Frerin was hasty to interject. Professor Radagast nodded, seemingly satisfied with this. “Then it would be in your best interest to do that as soon as possible. Keep in mind that the content of our lessons will not be getting less.” Once again Frerin nodded, before leaving with a quick “Good day Professor!”.

* * *

 

“So, what was it that Radagast wanted from you?” Víli asked as he joined them for lunch at the Gryffindor table. He began shoveling food on his plate while he explained what the Herbology Professor had asked him to do.

“A tutor, huh? You already have someone in mind?” Daín wanted to know once Ferin had finished his tale.

Frerin shrugged his shoulders. “Someone who’s good in Herbology?”

“No shit, dimwit. I meant, do you already know who you’re going to ask? Like, someone specific.”

“Nope, no idea. None of our friends or family could really fit the part. At least none of those who’d have the time to tutor me right now.”

“How about Bilbo?”

All three turned around to where Primula was sitting a few seats down the table.

“Who?” Frerin asked.

“Bilbo. You know, Bilbo Baggins? My best friend? Hufflepuff’s Prefect who’s also in our year?” Primula raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that you don’t know his first name?”

Víli blushed. “Well, now we do. That wouldn’t be such a bad idea, what do you say, Frerin?"

“I don’t know.” He replied lamely. “I mean, I’ve never really talked to him before. Wouldn’t it be weird to ask him out of the blue?”

Primula rolled her eyes. “If you want to play shy, I can ask him for you.”

Frerin grinned. “Really? Thanks, Prim!” She merely replied with another eye roll paired with a deep sigh.

* * *

 

“Bilbo!” a voice trilled into his ear. Bilbo jerked around and stared wide-eyed at a grinning Primula.

“Why! Do you always do that!” he demanded to know, as he pressed his hand over his heart in an attempt to calm it down.

“Because you’re really cute when you get all wide-eyed and flushed like that, makes you look like a bunny! And red really suits you. Shame you’re not in Gryffindor, really.”

“Your point?”

Primula’s grin turned a little sheepish. “Actually, I came here to ask you a favour. Not the best way to start that conversation, huh?”

“I could find one or two points I’d improve, but continue.”

“A friend of mine needs to be tutored in Herbology. And I kind of volunteered you.”

One of Bilbo’s eyebrows climbed higher. “Did you now?”

“Yes. Because you’re the best in our year. And because you’re very intelligent. And organized. And talented. And handsome. Did I say you are the best?"

“You did,” Bilbo sighed, already resigning to his fate. “Whom did you volunteer me to?”

“Frerin Durin.”

The eyebrow that had just made its way back to its normal resting place was once again being raised. “Durin? As in, little brother to that one jerk from Diagon Alley-Durin? Of the Baggins-Are-Beneath-Us Durins?”

Primula squinted at him, feeling suspicious. “Yes,” she answered slowly. “Why?”

“Are you sure he wants MY help?”

“Bilbo. Is this about your hurt pride?”

“What if it was?” Bilbo crossed his arms. He was sure he looked like an obstinate child, but he really didn’t want to help anyone from that family. He was a Baggins and he had pride, too!

“If this is about your pride,” Primula repeated, “then I am going to kick you.”

“I thought your resolution for this year was to be non-violent?”

“My resolution was also for me and my friends to be non-stupid, but apparently that’s not really happening.”

“But I don’t want to!” Bilbo whined.

Primula closed her eyes and lifted her head up towards the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” Bilbo wanted to know.

“Counting to ten in my head so I don’t smash your head against the desk.” She rubbed her eyes and turned back to Bilbo. “You will meet him. You will set up a first tutoring session. You will be nice to him. You will remember that he is a friend of mine and that he is not his brother. Did I make myself clear.”

“That didn’t sound like a question, Prim.”

“That’s because there was no question, just an order.” As she spoke, Bilbo started pouting. “Don’t pout. This is for your own good.” Bilbo only pouted harder. Primula groaned. “I’ll expect you after dinner at our table.”

Bilbo let his head fall into his hands. “Okay, fine. I’ll be there.”

Primula nodded, obviously satisfied with his answer. “Great! See you after dinner!” She hugged him goodbye, before turning on her tiptoes and walking away.

“I hate you!” Bilbo shouted after her.

“No loud noises in the library!” came a prompt reply from between the racks of books.

* * *

 

When Frerin walked into the Great Hall, he immediately looked for Primula. He scanned the crowd at the Gryffindor table, but he was not able to spot her.

“What are you standing around here for? You look like someone stood you up at the dance party.”

“Ha-ha, very funny Dwalin. I’m looking for someone.”

“Oooohhh, got a hot date?” Dwalin’s grin turned into a leer. “Who’s the lucky lad or lass?” Frerin shoved his elbow into Dwalins stomach. Sadly, Dwalin seemed to be 90% pure muscle, so the shove actually hurt Frerin more than Dwalin.

“Shove off ass-hat! I’m searching for a friend who wanted to set me up with a tutor for Herbology.”

Dwalin threw his arm around Frerins shoulder. “So you finally decided to do something about those horrid grades of yours?”

Frerin rolled his eyes. “Yes. Now shove off, I found her.”

With a chuckle, Dwalin took his arm back and started to walk in the direction of the Slytherin table. “See you later, kid!”

Frerin quickly made it over to where Primula was sitting with Lobelia and Fortinbras at the Gryffindor table and flopped into a seat across from her. “Did you talk to him?”

Primula chewed the bite in her mouth deliberately slowly before swallowing and saying, “Hello to you too, Frerin. How are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking by the way.”

Frerin rolled his eyes. One of these days, he was sure, his eyes would just roll right out of their sockets. But maybe then he could replace them with cool magical eyes! Eyes who could see right through stuff or translate scripts or rotate in his sockets or… A pair of fingers appeared in his line of vision and a loud snap brought him back to the then and there. “Earth to Frerin! Stay on target!” Primula sighed loudly. “No wonder you have trouble in your classes if you can’t stay focused.”

Frerin grinned sheepishly and rubbed his neck. “Sorry.”

“And to answer your question from earlier,” Primula continued. “Yes, I talked to Bilbo.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he’s coming over to our table to talk to you after he is finished with dinner.”

“Great! Thank you so much!”

“Well, if he’s coming over after his dinner, settle in, Frerin! That may take a while,” Lobelia casually chipped in, a small smirk on her lips.

“You say that as if you wanted to insult me, my dear Lobelia,” sounded a new voice from behind her. Frerin, Lobelia and Primula turned to its source, only to find Bilbo Baggins standing at their table.

Lobelia merely lifted one eyebrow before replying. “Of course not, my dear Bilbo. I was only making a statement. It is always a delight to watch you eat your own body weight. Just where do you keep it with that rather short and sturdy figure of yours?”

“That, my dearest, is a Baggins family secret,” Bilbo answered with a borderline mean-looking grin. “Only those born or related by marriage will be let in on it. Sadly that means you’ll never get to know it.”

“Screw you!” Lobelia sneered.

Bilbo’s smile only widened. “Not if you were the last living being on this green planet.” With that said Lobelia jumped to her feet, made a rude gesture in Bilbo’s direction and left the Great Hall. Bilbo promptly took her seat. “Honestly, there are approximately 1,000,000 words in the English language but I can never string them together in a way to explain how much I want to hit her with a chair whenever she starts talking.” Eventually, he looked at Frerin and held out his hand. “I know we kind of know each other from class, but still… Bilbo Baggins, at your service!”

Frerin took the offered hand and enthusiastically shook it. “Frerin Durin, at yours. You are my hero!”

Bilbo lifted an eyebrow. “And you are the total opposite of your brother.”

Seeming a little confused, Frerin asked, “Is that bad?”

“No, that’s great! You, at the least, have some manners. I like that.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand, but I’m happy as long as you’re willing to tutor me.” They talked for a little while more and agreed to meet in the library after dinner the next day. Together with Primula, they left the Great Hall. Bilbo then proceeded through the door that lead to the kitchen as well as the Hufflepuff common room while Frerin and Primula walked to the Quidditch Pitch for evening practise.

* * *

 

The following day after lunch, Bilbo made his way towards the library. Even though he had agreed to tutor Frerin, he was still wary. He didn’t really know much about him, besides that he was on the Quidditch team, that he sucked at Herbology and that he was much nicer than his older brother.

Still, first impressions could be wrong. Maybe he was just better at concealing his arrogance? Or maybe he wanted to use the tutoring to make fun of Bilbo? No, that probably wasn’t his intention. After all, considering his grades, he really needed the tutoring.

Bilbo had a favourite desk in the far corner of the library, right in the Herbology section directly underneath a window. Usually, that corner of the library was empty and Bilbo could read in peace. It went so far that some people actually referred to that desk as ‘Bilbo’s Corner’. He had not expected Frerin to be late, but he certainly hadn’t expected him to arrive even before himself.

“Hey!” said the blonde-haired Durin, waving from where was he sitting in Bilbo’s usual spot.

“Hey yourself! You’re early,“ Bilbo greeted him with a warm smile as he took the seat opposite of Frerin.

“Well, I’m the one accepting a favour here, so I thought it would be good to be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright then, let’s get started! What do you need help with?” Bilbo asked.

“Honestly?” Frerin replied. “Everything.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Good thing I came prepared then.” He reached into his bag and retrieved a folder. “These are the most important plants that have been discussed in our first four years. I made notes to all of them and I tried to keep them simple, so that even someone who isn’t well-versed in Herbology should have no trouble with them.” He opened the folder to a random page and pointed to a sketch. “Ori even helped me with making a few drawings to get the visual part down.” He closed the folder again and gave it to Frerin. “You can keep it for a while and read it. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask me! That way you can build a basis, we can build on. In our tutoring session, I am going to help you complete your plant journal so that you’ll get a passing grade for it. All of the plants will be asked after in our O.W.L.s, so we will have our work cut out for us till autumn break.” He looked at Frerin and smiled. “Are you okay with all of this?”

Frerin was still looking through the folder. When he looked up, his eyes were shining. “Your notes are amazing! And those drawings! Did Ori really make them?”

Bilbo grinned. “Yeah, he is really talented! You should see his portraits!”

Frerin was already back to looking through the folder. “Bilbo, I could kiss you right now!”

”Let’s leave that for after I save your grades.” Bilbo winked. “Should we get started with your plant journal?


	4. Playing Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch! :D

Frerin came out of Greenhouse Five with a big grin on his face. Since he and Bilbo had started to meet twice a week for tutoring, Frerin had made kind of a truce with Herbology. He started the habit of writing down things he didn’t understand and Bilbo would either answer them right then in class or later when they’d meet in the Library. It also really helped that Bilbo had begun to sit with Daín, Víli and himself at one table.

Since it was Friday, there was Open Quidditch Court. This custom had been introduced by Mr. Bard four years previous. He was teaching the Flying lessons for the first years and was the referee for all games. However, since not all students who liked to fly were part of the Quidditch team or wanted to fly or train with members of opponent teams, Mr. Bard had declared Friday evenings to be open for everyone who had a broom and wanted to use it.

Ever since then, Frerin and his siblings had started to use Fridays to meet up, train together and tell each other about their week. Due to the fact that Frerin had been sorted into a different house than most of his family, he didn’t get to see them quite as often as he liked and now Quidditch Fridays had become their family ritual.

After dinner he, Daín and Víli met up with their relatives in the entrance hall and together they made their way over to the Quidditch pitch. When they arrived there were already a fair number of students in the air throwing balls at each other or flying through rings. Some others sat in the bleachers, watching their friends.

The Durins were quite known through all of Hogwarts, partly because of their decade long involvement in the Ministry of Magic, partly because of their skills with a broom. Almost all of them were part of their houses respective Quidditch teams, with the exception of Glóin, Óin and Daín.

Frerin played as a Beater on the Gryffindor team. Last year they had lost the final game of the season, and with it the Cup, to Ravenclaw. He was determined to win this year. Even if more than half his family was on the opposite team.

“So, tell me, how is that tutoring of yours going?” his little sister Dís wanted to know, as she passed the ball to him. She was playing for the Slytherins as a Chaser, together with his brother Thorin. Both of them on their own were good, but together they were a force to be reckoned with.

While answering her question Frerins face broke out into a huge grin and he passed the ball to Thorin. “It’s going great! Professor Radagast even praised me today and awarded me ten points! Me! In Herbology!”

“Miracles do happen!” interjected Thorin in a dry voice. The corner of his mouth was twitching as he tried to remain stoic while being confronted with his beaming brother. He caught the pass and tried for a shot on goal, which was intercepted by Balin who passed the ball to Dwalin.

“Try harder next time!” Balin gloated.

“Seriously though, Bilbo is a miracle worker!” Frerin continued. “He is such a great teacher. He gave me a folder with his notes and he sits next to me in class and answers all of my questions and he proofreads my plant journal and he helps me re-visit the subjects of the first four years and he is so nice and patient and-”

“Alright! We get it!” His rant was interrupted by a laughing Dís. “Please, spare us!”

“By the way you talk about this kid one could think you had a crush on him,” Dwalin teased while flying circles around Thorin and taunting him with the ball. Thorin made a grab for it and almost hauled Dwalin from his broom. “Son of a…!” he cursed as he re-adjusted the grip on his broom. Thorin grinned and passed the ball back to Dís, who caught it and was able to trick Balin into diving for the wrong ring, leaving her with a free shot at the goal, which she promptly took.

Frerins eyes widened. “Me? A crush on Bilbo? No, no! I mean he is cute, but I only like him as a friend!” He flew down to the ground and retrieved the ball. He passed it to Víli, who in turn tried to pass it to Thorin. Frerin’s big brother, however, was busy chasing Dwalin down the field. Apparently Dwalin had snatched Thorins hair band while he wasn’t looking. At least that was the conclusion Frerin came to when he saw his brother’s long black hair whipping freely in the wind.

In that moment, Primula sped past Frerin, flew a loop around Víli and snatched the ball right out of his hand. She threw them a shit-eating grin as she raced back to the other side of the field. Frerin looked at his best friend and with matching smirks, they chased after her.

The two Gryffindor Beaters were gaining on Primula, but just as Víli wanted to make a grab for the ball, he was blocked by Fortinbras, who seemingly had decided to join in on the chase. Frerin ducked under them to get to Primula, but she had already reached one of the towers where the bleachers were located and started circling them. Frerin raced after her and tried to intercept her course, but she managed to slip through his fingers. A few seconds later Víli and Fortinbras joined them. Together with his best friend, he was able to corner her, but when he made to grasp for the ball, he realized that it wasn’t in her hands anymore. Primula laughed as she flew out of reach again.

While Frerin, Víli and Fortinbras still shared confused looks, a shout from over their heads drew their attention. “Prim! You just smacked Hamfast in the face!” Bilbo’s face loomed over them from the stands. From next to him they could hear someone else say, “I think he’s bleeding.”

Primula’s eyes widened and she flew higher to hover over the bleachers, Frerin and the other two boys close behind. On one of the benches Hamfast Gamgee was clutching a handkerchief to his nose. When he saw the brunette girl, he muttered, “No more chocolate for you.” He sounded slightly muffled due to the swelling of his nose and speaking through the fabric pressed to his face. Primula landed gently on the bleachers, immediately starting apologizing and demanding to see the damage she had caused.

Bilbo just shook his head and picked up the ball. He turned towards Frerin and Víli, who were still hovering in the air in front of the stands. “And that’s why I don’t play Quidditch. I may be good at throwing the ball, but I couldn’t catch it to save my life. And let’s not talk about my flying abilities!”

“But you’ve been on a broom before, right?” Víli asked.

“Yes, like every first year here in Hogwarts,” Bilbo informed.“After that, I’ve been avoiding anything with Tail-Twigs. Except regular brooms for sweeping, of course.”

“A shame, really. I bet it’d be fun if you were flying with us,” Frerin mused, all the while grinning towards Bilbo encouragingly.

The Hufflepuff Prefect started laughing. “Not a chance.” With a grin still on his face, Bilbo threw the ball at them.

* * *

 

After kicking - since he needed his hands to hold onto the broomstick - the shit out of Dwalin and then taming his hair, Thorin flew back over to his family. Dís was keeping busy with a little competition between herself and some other students who were dumb enough to try and take her on in a game of Nosedive chicken. She always waited till the last moment to lift up again. Dís said that she loved the feeling of her toes just barely skimming the grass.

Thorin quickly skimmed over his family members in sight but couldn’t spot his little brother. His brow furrowed in confusion. Balin seemed to notice his gaze and flew over to hover next to him. “If you’re searching for Frerin, he’s on the other side of the field.” Balin jerked his head in the direction of the other goal posts. When Thorin looked over he was already able to see his brother’s and Víli’s light hair sticking out. “A friend of them came over and snatched the ball. I think they are trying to get it back.” Balin continued to explain.

Thorin nodded his understanding. “I’m going to get him. Or at the least, get the ball back,” he decided before turning his broomstick around and heading towards his brother. As he got closer, he could identify some of the students who were hovering near him or standing on the bleachers next by. Most of them Thorin knew only briefly from them being on last year’s Gryffindor Quidditch team. On the bleachers, he spotted Ori, Nori’s younger brother, and to his shock he also recognized that Baggins kid who had talked back at him at the Leaky Cauldron. Víli seemed to notice him first and he elbowed Frerin in the ribs before pointing towards him. The two exchanged a few words before his brother flew in his direction while Víli remained with their friends and the Baggins kid, who had once again started to sneer in his direction.

Thorin lowered himself down until he was hovering opposite of his brother with his judgiest of bitch faces, as in ‘ _What the hell’_ , and Frerin returned his stare with a particularly exaggerated raised eyebrow eyebrow as well as a glare and slight shake of his head. Thorin started frowning like he couldn’t even believe they were even having this conversation and Frerin rolled his eyes because honestly, Thorin, it was really not a big deal, so stop acting like a total dick.

Thorin stubbornly continued to glare at the bleachers. With an exasperated sigh, Frerin threw his head back. “Oh my god Thorin, what is your problem? I thought you’d overcome your ridiculous animosity towards my friends!”

“Why are you talking to that Baggins kid?” Thorin snapped.

Frerin raised his eyebrows and glanced over his shoulder in confusion. “What Baggins kid? Do you mean Bilbo? I told you, he is my tutor.”

Thorin’s glare hardened. “You never told me he was a Baggins.”

“I never told you, because I didn’t think it was important.” Frerin was talking really slowly, as if he was explaining something to a toddler.

“Well, it is. Wizards like them are beneath us, Frerin. I’m pretty sure Balin would tutor you if you’d ask him.”

“There is only one problem with that: I don’t want Balin to tutor me. I like Bilbo. I understand him. And what the hell, Thorin? _Beneath us_? I think you have been spending too much time with our grandfather,” Frerin argued crossly, “listening to his speeches about ‘ _the great accomplishments of the Durin family line and where the wizarding world would be without us’_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your family. If more people strived to do great things and spent less time in their gardens tending to their flowers, then the world would be a better place!”

“Are you serious? No, don’t tell me, I can see that you are. I can’t believe you!” With that said Frerin turned away and sped back over to where Víli and the others were watching them.

Thorin gritted his teeth but refused to cause more of a scene because of his brother’s childish antics. He would talk to him the next day. He tugged on his Broomstick and flew back over to the rest of his family who weren’t being stubborn assholes. At least most of the time.

* * *

 

Frerin was still seething when he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room a few hours later. Mr. Bard had declared it too dark to continue flying safely and threatened to ban them from any future games if they didn’t do as he told them to. Primula, Fortinbras and the others had already left an hour before, but Víli had stayed behind with him.

After he’d flown away from Thorin, he asked Bilbo if he knew his older brother from somewhere. Bilbo then told him of their encounter at Diagon Alley at the end of summer break. His brother had definitely been spending too much time with their grandfather. _Beneath them. Not useful for the public_. What a big load of bullshit all this was. Yes, his grandfather was a Warlock of the Wizengamot and had established a new world-wide trading agreement. Yes, his father Thráin, the current head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, had solved endless cases, in which wizards had either carelessly or with intent used their magic and destroyed whole buildings and killed dozens of innocent people. His uncle Náin had been a star Quidditch player for England, helped win the World Cup and was now the head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games. But all that didn’t make them any better or worth more than other wizards. At least not to Frerin’s mind. And in his opinion, Thorin should open his eyes and see the worth in the little deeds and accomplishments.

When he and Víli finally reached the common room, they found that Primula und Fortinbras had waited for them. They were sitting on the hard-fought over armchairs at the fireplace and were playing a game of cards.

“So, care to explain why your brother was acting like such a dick?” Fortinbras asked when the two boys stood next to them.  Frerin heaved a heavy sigh and dropped into the last available seat. Víli rolled his eyes and took a seat on the ground between all three armchairs, his back to the crackling fire.

“He’s not always a dick. He is really nice most of the time. But when he spends too much time with our grandfather he always gets those-,” Frerin paused, in search for a better word, “…ideas, about all kinds of things. How to behave, who to talk to, what to do with your life and so on and so on. It’s really stupid. I hope if he has a little more time away from him he’ll come to his senses.” Frerin sunk even lower into the chair and crossed his arms.

“Stop pouting, you big baby.” Primula threw one of the cards at him, but before it could even reach Frerin, it made a loop in the air and fell down.

“I’m not pouting. Men don’t pout.” He stuck out his lip in an exaggerated way.

The girl snorted. “Yeah, whatever.”

* * *

 

The next day after the Gryffindor Quidditch team had finished their practise, Frerin stayed behind to wait for the Slytherin team that had scheduled the pitch after them. He had decided to try and talk some sense into his brother. Víli had offered to stay behind as well, but Frerin had declined. “I don’t want him to get all defensive just from seeing us two trying to corner him or something. Just save me a seat in the common room. And a few scones, too! Although, between Fortinbras and Daín, they’ll all be gone before you can even say ‘Accio’.”

He spotted his big brother making his way towards the Quidditch pitch. He managed to intercept him just before Thorin entered the changing rooms. “Hey, can we talk?”

Thorin raised an eyebrow at him, but pointed to the far corner of the building and started walking. When they were out of the teams hearing range, Thorin faced Frerin and crossed his arms. “Well?”

Frerin rolled his eyes. He really needed to stop doing that. “No need to get all defensive, Thorin. I just came to ask you to not be a prick to Bilbo. I really like him and he is a good teacher.”

“So you say. And how, mind you, can I ‘not be a prick’ towards your little Baggins friend?” Thorin questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I believe we’re done here. I have to go and train now.” With that, Thorin left, but not without shoulder checking him on his way into the changing rooms.

Which left Frerin with nothing to do but walk back to the castle, frustrated.

* * *

 

When Thorin started to walk out of the changing rooms with Dwalin and Nori on both his sides, Dís called after him. “Thorin? Can I talk with you for a sec?”

The question seemed harmless enough, but the tone of her voice prompted all three of them to freeze in their step. Thorin threw a desperate glance at his best friend that screamed, ‘ _Help me_!’

Dwalin lifted one eyebrow as if to say, ‘ _Against your sister? You’re on your own_ ,’ before he bolted out of the room, Nori hot at his heels. ‘ _Traitors!_ ’ Thorin cursed them internally as he turned around and faced his sister. She pointed to one of the benches. “Sit with me?”

“Dìs, I’m really hungry, can’t this wait till after…?”

“ _Sit_.” There was no room for argument in her voice. Thorin’s legs folded in on themselves and he dropped onto the bench. Dís smiled at her brother. It wasn’t a kind smile; it looked more like, ‘ _pleased with the trained pet_ ’.

“What do you want to talk about then?” he grumbled and folded his arms.

Dís rolled her eyes and answered, “Stop pouting, you’re worse than Frerin.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Yes, you are, it runs in the family,” she said as she crossed her legs. “Speaking of family: Why are you spewing this _’Durins are important for the wizarding world, everyone else is unworthy_ ’ nonsense? Did you hit your head one too many times on the field? Did grandfather brainwash you?” Thorin opened his mouth but his sister hushed him at once. “I’m not done; it’s not your turn to talk!” Her brother closed his mouth again. “Not only are you hurting Frerin’s feelings with your behaviour, I am also embarrassed by your rude manners. Do you even know this Bilbo Baggins? Or _any_ Baggins for that matter? And I mean know, as in actually talked to them for a longer period of time, not only listened to the gossip people like our grandfather and his business partners are sprouting?” Since Thorin wasn’t entirely sure if he was allowed to talk yet, he set his face in a frown in lieu of an answer. “That’s what I thought you’d say!”

Dís pressed her hands to her face before moving them to massage her temples. “Is it my turn to talk yet?” Thorin asked dryly.

“No!” Dís shot him a dark look, clearly implying that his turn to talk would never come. “Okay, here is what you are going to do: You are going to stop bothering Frerin. You will get to know this Bilbo kid so that you can get over your ridiculous sentiments. And, Thorin, this is not a suggestion. There is no maybe. You will do it. Did I make myself clear?”

“But-!”

“I said, ‘Did I make myself clear’?”

“Crystal clear,” Thorin responded through gritted teeth.

Dís nodded. “Good. Dismissed.”

Thorin stood up, irritated. “Sometimes I wonder,” he mused, “why you haven’t already gotten rid of everyone who’s against you.”

“I don’t like to be the sole person standing in the spotlights. I’m perfectly fine with manipulating everyone from the shadows. And I can’t just dispose of everyone; I need minions who do my bidding.”


	5. Angry Stalking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is... observing and Bilbo is being a burglar :)

“I’m pretty sure this is not what Dís meant when she gave you that task.”

“Shut up. No one said you needed to follow me.”

“And miss out on you, making a fool out of yourself? As if!”

“And what exactly are you two doing here?”

Dwalin and Thorin turned around to come face to face with Nori who was leaning on a bookshelf next to them. Dwalin grinned. “You know how Frerin and Dís are annoyed with Thorin for being, and I quote, ‘rude’ to the Baggins kid?”

“Yes, I was there for most of it.”

“Well, our ladyship has tasked Thorin to get to know this Bilbo and pull the giant stick out of his ass.”

Nori raised his right eyebrow. “And how does he plan to accomplish that? Because I know him well enough to understand he is not going to talk to this guy.”

“I’m standing right next to you, you know?”

His friends ignored him. “He has been angrily stalking him for three days now,” Dwalin informed, still grinning.

Nori raised his other brow as well. “Angrily… stalking?”

“Yes,” Dwalin laughed. “He keeps staring at him across the Great Hall, follows him through the corridors and, as you can see right now, is hiding behind bookshelves and ‘spying’ on Frerin’s and Bilbo’s tutoring lessons.”

“Aha.” Nori turned to Thorin. “You know, if you’re trying to hide, you’re doing it wrong, right? They aren’t supposed to see you. So maybe consider standing behind the bookshelf, not next to it.”

“No one asked you,” Thorin muttered. “Go away, both of you.” He wasn’t stalking the kid. Dís had said to get to know him, so Thorin started to… observe. Observing, not stalking, goddammit! He had learned that this Bilbo was a fifth year Hufflepuff Prefect, he had a flock of first years who seemed to actually stalk him, he liked to read and he had a preferred table in the library. Where he sat. Every. Single. Day. And sometimes Frerin joined him there for tutoring.

Thorin knew that he hadn’t been subtle whilst… observing, but he was fairly certain that the Baggins kid had not noticed. He seemed to be very oblivious.

“As entertaining as it is to watch your brother and his boy toy over there, I’ve got other things to do,” Nori said as he stood up straight and then waved two fingers at them. “See you guys later.” Without waiting for a response, he promptly turned around and sauntered away.

“Are we really going to stand here all evening?” Dwalin questioned, ignoring Nori’s exit entirely.

“I am. I don’t trust him with Frerin,” Thorin replied casually. “My brother, on the other hand, is way too trusting. I don’t want him to be used.”

“No offence, Thorin, but Frerin is getting tutored. Nothing more.”

Thorin’s gaze left Bilbo and his brother and he turned to Dwalin, chuckling. “And that is where you are wrong! It’s Tuesday. They don’t study on Tuesdays, normally,” he crowed. “But yesterday Baggins told Frerin about his struggles in History and Frerin offered to help him!”

“That doesn’t make you sound like a creepy stalker at all. Really, Thorin, very healthy behaviour.”  
“Shut up.”

When they turned back around to the two studying, they found that Bilbo had apparently left the table, as Frerin was the only one still sitting there.

And he looked pissed.

* * *

 

Frerin was, once again, furious. And, once again, it was because of his idiotic big brother.

His sister had told him at the beginning of the week that she had talked to Thorin. “I don’t think he’ll bother you about this anymore, but knowing our brother anything is possible.”

Frerin had been thankful for the assistance and up until this evening, he’d thought Dís had solved his problem. However, when they were about to wrap up their history tutoring session - since this was something Frerin could help Bilbo with - his friend had stopped him mid-sentence. “Frerin, I really like you, but could you please tell your brazenly rude brother to stop stalking me,” Bilbo’d said, looking very annoyed. “And with that expression, too. I’m afraid to go anywhere without someone else, I fear he would murder me.”

Frerin’d only been able to blink owlishly at him. Bilbo then sighed and pointed to one of the bookshelves near them. Following his directions, Frerin could see Thorin and Dwalin lingering next to it. Both of them hadn’t even made an attempt to hide. It’d seemed as if they were bickering with someone else, but Frerin couldn’t see other people there. Turning back to Bilbo, he’d then profusely apologized to his new friend and promised he’d take care of his idiot brother.

Frerin remained at their table and glared in Thorin and Dwalin’s direction after Bilbo had left. When both of them turned back around to him, they froze. ‘ _Good_ ,’ Frerin thought. He calmly packed his folder into his bag, stood up and walked over to his two stalkers.

“Follow me,” he hissed as he passed them on his way towards the library doors, promptly followed by the sound of two pairs of hurried footsteps tracking after him. He exited the library, turned the first corner and stopped shortly, prompting the two older boys trailing behind him to almost run into him. He spun around, fixing his older brother with an angry glare. “What the hell, Thorin?!” His brother seemed a little taken aback by the sudden outburst and merely blinked at him in lieu of an answer, so Frerin continued, “Why are you stalking Bilbo? Are you crazy?!”

Thorin seemed to have pulled himself together and frowned. “I’m not stalking him!”

“What would you call this then, constantly following someone, glaring at them?”

“Observing!” Dwalin chimed in, smirking.

“Shut up, Dwalin!” the other two barked, causing Dwalin to visibly shrink a little under the combined yelling and glaring of the Durin brothers. 

He held his hands up in defence and added, “Ignore me, I’m not even here. Please, continue!”

Frerin turned back to his brother. “You need to stop making an ass out of yourself! Bilbo is doing me a great favour here! I don’t want him to stop speaking to me!”

“But he never talks to you outside of class!” Thorin countered. “You only see each other when he’s tutoring you or YOU’RE tutoring him!”

“That’s because we’re in different houses, you dumbass, and he likes to read while I like to play QUIDDITCH!”

“THAT’S STILL NO FRIENDSHIP! I DON’T WANT HIM TO USE YOU!”

“USE ME?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“Guys…”

“NOT NOW, DWALIN!”

“But I think you should lower-”

“BILBO IS NOT USING ME! WHY WOULD HE?!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE A DURIN! EVERYONE IS AFTER OUR MONEY OR FAME!”

“OH MY GOD, THORIN,” Frerin interrupted, “NOT EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD REVOLVES AROUND US! BILBO DOESN’T CARE ABOUT ALL OF THIS SHIT!”

“GUYS! SHUT UP!”

“What is going on here?”

All three boys froze on the spot. Upon turning around, they came face to face with a tight-lipped Professor Thranduil.

“Crap.” Dwalin muttered. Thorin and Frerin couldn’t help but agree with him.

* * *

 

“What do you mean, ‘until further notices’?” Primula asked a disgruntled Frerin, who was lying facedown on the table in the common room.

“It means the detention has no ending. As of yet.” Frerin’s answer was slightly muffled due to the fact that his face was still pressed to the wood.

“But… what does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“What IS your detention exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“You know nothing!” Primula crossed her arms, frustratedly burying herself even further into the armchair she was currently sitting on.

“I do know that it will take place every evening from 8 pm to 10 pm. And that it’s starting tomorrow,” sounded Frerin’s muffled answer from her left. “But… Quidditch! What about practise?” Víli, Fortinbras and Primula looked at Frerin with wide, scared eyes. “Professor Thranduil wants us to win the cup! How are we supposed to do that when you can’t practise with us?” Víli started to shake his best friend, who was still lying motionless on the table and let himself be manhandled easily.

“I don’t know.”

Fortinbras wailed, “Stop saying that!”

“On another note, what about your tutoring? Aren’t you gonna fall behind without Bilbo’s help?” Primula wanted to know.  
“I…”

“If you say ‘I don’t know’ one more time, I will throw you from the Astronomy tower!”

Víli turned to Fortinbras. “Dude.”

Fortinbras cringed. “Too soon?”

“Albus Dumbledore died up there.”

“But that was ages ago!”

“Doesn’t matter. It will always be too soon.”

Frerin let out a pitiful sigh and slipped from the table to lie motionless on the floor instead. “Detention with Thranduil, together with my brother and Dwalin for an indefinite amount of time, no Quidditch, no tutoring with Bilbo. My life is over!”

“Stop being such a drama queen,” Lobelia cavilled while walking by their table and lightly kicking Frerin in the side.

* * *

 

The next evening, Frerin, Dwalin and Thorin entered the Transfiguration classroom at 8 pm sharp. Professor Thranduil was already waiting for them, seated behind his desk. He pointed to three seats in the front row, where three plain keys had been laid out. When all of them had sat down, the Professor started to explain their task.

“For your detention I have designed a punishment that will not only help you with your performance in my class, it will also teach you some patience and how to tame your tempers.” He pulled an intricately formed key out of his pocket and held it up. “This is my key for the Transfiguration classroom. It will be your task to change the keys in front of you into an exact replica of mine. I will lock you three in here till 10 pm. If you succeed, you can, of course, open the door yourselves and your detention will be over. You will try every evening until one of you manages the transfiguration. You may begin now.” With this Thranduil stood up and made to leave the classroom.

“Professor?” Frerin asked quickly.

“Yes, Mister Durin?”

“Aren’t you going to leave us with at least a picture of the key or something?”

“I’ll show you the key every evening, which will have to suffice. It is, after all, a punishment and I don’t want to make this too easy for you.” He smiled at the lot of them before closing the door and locking it.

“I hate him,” Dwalin said.

“I hate him more,” Thorin retorted.

“And I hate both of you!” Frerin grumbled as he lowered his head onto the table.

* * *

 

“A week, Bilbo! A whole week! Seven days! 168 Hours!” Primula had thrown herself onto a chair opposite of him. He’d been reading quietly at his favourite desk in the library, minding his own business, until his nosy best friend decided to use him as a complaint box.

“Hello, Prim. How are you?”

“I am miserable! We haven’t had a good Quidditch practise for a week! And only because none of the Durins is able to transfigure this godforsaken key!”

Of course, he knew about Frerin’s punishment. The Gryffindor boy had told him all about it the previous week and explained why they couldn’t meet up for their tutoring. Bilbo was kind of bummed about it, since they were long past the state of tutor and student and had become friends.

They didn’t only talk about their subjects, but also about their families, their hobbies and their friends. Víli and Fortinbras had already come to him to complain and whine as well. It was starting to get a little bit annoying. Yes, he knew how important that ball game on flying wooden sticks was to them and seemingly the rest of the school, but come on! It was way worse that Frerin was falling behind on his studies!

“And what do you want me to do about it?” He wanted to know.

Primula looked at him with her mightiest version of the look everyone called ‘puppy dog eyes’. “Can’t you talk to Thranduil? Persuade him to put an end to this madness?”

“Firstly, I may be a Prefect but I’m not even in Gryffindor. Secondly, persuade Thranduil? Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’re right… it’s hopeless! We’ll never see Frerin again!” Defeated, she dropped her head onto the table.

Bilbo had already thought about how he might be able to help. He really wanted to help his friend. And if a certain thought, let’s say about showing Thorin Durin how decidedly _not_ useless he was, had crossed his mind once or twice, then that was nobody’s business but his own.

“You said they have to change their keys into the key for Thranduil’s classroom, right?”

“Yes.” Primula lifted her head a little bit until only her chin was resting at the table top.

“Hmmm…” Bilbo rubbed his temple, as if deep in thought. Slowly, a small smirk made its way onto his face.

Primula began beaming. ”I know that look! What’re you going to do?”

“Nothing!”

“I don’t believe you! You’re going to do something and it will be against the rules! I know you!”

“Then you should know as well that I’m always a prime example for following the rules and never doing anything unexpected!” He grinned at her before stuffing his books into his bag. “Come on, I’m hungry and I want to go to bed early. I have a feeling that I’m not going to sleep well tonight.”  
“I love you. You are my favourite!” She linked her arm with his and with a spring in their steps, they made their way towards the doors.

“Everyone is your favourite, Prim.”

* * *

 

 ‘ _Bilbo Baggins, what are you doing?_ ’ Bilbo asked himself as he pressed himself in a small alcove in the corridor as Professor Radagast walked by him. Of course, he had an excuse as for why he, a respectable Baggins Prefect, was out of bed this late, but he’d still prefer not to be caught by a teacher. There was almost no chance of him being caught, though, thanks to his trusted invisibility cloak, which had been passed down from his grandfather Old Took to his mother Belladonna and then to him. He still had to be careful not to bump into things or, even worse, people. He may be invisible, but certainly not untouchable.

Next to no one knew about this cloak and Bilbo liked to keep it that way. Just imagine what would happen if his noisy friends knew of it. The school would surely crumble.

Nevertheless, he needed to focus on the task ahead: Breaking and entering.  When the coast was clear, Bilbo continued down the corridor towards Professor Thranduil’s office. He figured the keys were being kept there. If not and the Professor turned out to take the keys into his bed chamber, then Bilbo would need a new plan. However, first things first.

He arrived at the office door and found it locked. As expected. That meant picking the lock. As Bilbo took out his wand, his guilty conscience nagged at him in the form of his father’s voice, saying ‘ _Look at your live, look at you choices._ ’ Ignoring the guilty feeling, he whispered a low, “Alohomora.”

The door opened and Bilbo knew he had to be quick, since a powerful sorcerer like Professor Thranduil certainly had more security measures than just a locked door. He quickly scanned the surface of the desk and the nearby drawers, but couldn’t see anything. He walked further into the room, always cautious about where he stepped. When he was halfway in, he spotted a key holder which was mounted next to the window, on the other side of the room. He approached the keys and promptly spotted the intricate design of the classroom key. He pulled a plain one out of his pocket and set to work. With the key right before his eyes, it was easier to transform, but he still wasn’t fast enough.

“Who’s there?” Professor Thranduil stepped into the room, dressed only in a long pair of sleeping pants and a robe. While he scanned the room, Bilbo send his thanks to every deity that he knew of for the fact that he had already mastered the silent casting of spells. He quickly put the finishing touches on the key, before returning it into his pocket. Then, however, he had a problem: How to get past Thranduil without being noticed?

He pressed himself to the wall and started edging along in the direction of the door, while Thranduil continued to stand in the middle of the room, peering into every corner. At one point Bilbo was sure he had been spotted. The Transfiguration Professor had looked directly at him and held his gaze for a few seconds. Bilbo stopped moving, going so far that he even stopped breathing. When the Professor continued his search, though, Bilbo frantically checked if anything of his was visible before edging further along the wall.

He made it out seconds before Thranduil himself exited the room and locked it again. Shaking his head, the Professor started down the corridors towards his private rooms while Bilbo ran into the opposite direction.

Only when he was in the safety of the Hufflepuff common room, he felt comfortable enough to remove the cloak and take a look at his prize. The moonlight shone through the windows and made the key, with its complex patterns of leaves and flowers, glitter. Bilbo grinned.

‘ _My, what a burglar you are, Bilbo Baggins!_ ’

* * *

 

Thorin sat at his assigned seat and glared at the plain, silver key lying in front of him. On this particular day, they were starting their second week of detention, and all that for some minor yelling in the corridor. They needed to get out of there.

They had already tried everything, but the key was so complex that it was impossible to remember every detail. Two days earlier, they had agreed to work together. Everyone was to try and transfigure one detail per evening. It would be a slow process, but at least they would get out eventually. This second week of detention, however, started out with that bastard of a professor giving them new keys. All of their hard work had been for nothing.

Frerin had started to bang his head against the table, all the while muttering something about ‘ _never being able to play Quidditch again_ ’. He could sympathize with his little brother, for he too had a similar urge. Dwalin had started to mutilate the key. He’d said he imagined it to be the bastard’s face.

Thorin felt a scream growing in his chest; however, before he could release it, they heard something from the door. It sounded suspiciously like a key being turned in the lock. All three of them looked at their watches, then back to the door. It couldn’t be Thranduil, only half an hour had passed since they had been locked in.

When the door opened and a small figure stepped into the room, they all gasped in shock.

“Bilbo!” Frerin screamed. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

Bilbo grinned. “Well, I’m here to rescue you, of course. And about how I got in...” He pulled the key out of the lock and held it up into the light. It was a perfect copy of the one Thranduil was using. Thorin felt his jaw dropping.

Frerin cheered, leaped up and latched onto Bilbo. “You are my hero. I could kiss you!”

Bilbo laughed. “Once again, Frerin: Maybe later.” He detached Frerin from his neck and placed the key onto the desk. He turned to his friend and said, “If you hurry, you can still make it to practise.”

Frerin’s eyes got huge and he sprinted away. Over his shoulder he hollered, “I’ll kiss you later!”

Bilbo just laughed again, before smirking and turning to Thorin, while raising an eyebrow. “Not bad for a grocer, huh?” With that said, he turned around as well and left.

Next to him, he heard Dwalin mutter an amazed, “ _Burn_.”

Thorin couldn’t help but nod in agreement.


	6. The proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I was distracted by real and virtual life! Thanks to my lovely beta :3  
> Enjoy!

“You know, this isn’t really an improvement from the angry stalking.” Dwalin said between bites.

“What kind of stalking is this exactly? Apprehensive Stalking? Contemplative stalking? It can’t be friendly stalking, you don’t look friendly.” Nori mused on his right, his head resting in his palm.

“I am still not stalking him and both of you are still not helpful.”

“Why do you keep on ‘observing’ him anyway?” Nori furrowed his brow and looked from Bilbo to Thorin.

Thorin continued eating and tried to ignore the heat that crept up his cheeks and ears.

“Why are you blushing?” Nori narrowed his eyes. “You’re embarrassed! You don’t know how to apologize!”

On his left Dwalin snorted out a laugh, promptly choked on his food and started coughing. His face became a bright scarlet and he started to thump his fist onto the table. On his right Nori started cackling loudly.

“Both of you shut up!”

“Awww, come on. I mean it’s not that hard, right? You just go up to him and apologize. Even Dwalin could do it.”

It was Thorins turn to snort out a laugh. Next to him Dwalin made an offended noise and punched him in the arm.

“Hey! Just because you seem to have never apologized to anyone doesn’t mean I haven’t.”

Thorin raised his eyebrow at him. “Well, then why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Dwalins glare darkened. “Fine, I will.” With that he stood up and started walking towards the Hufflepuff table. Thorin and Nori followed his march across the hall with wide eyes.

“What are you watching?” Glóin asked while he sat down in Dwalins abandoned seat.

“Sshhh!” Nori hushed him with his hand, all the while still staring at Dwalin, who had reached the Hufflepuff table and was now standing behind Bilbo. Thorin watched as Bilbo stiffened before turning around. He did a little jump on the bench and yelped as he saw Dwalin standing behind him with his arms crossed.

“He looks as if he wanted to bash that kids head in.” Glóin murmured in their direction. Thorin shrugged. “Well, that is his resting face.”

“Like your grumpy facial expression?”

“Shut up Nori.”

“Look!” Glóin nudged him with his elbow. “The runt is saying something.”

Indeed Bilbo seemed to have composed himself a little after the fright Dwalin had given him and was now talking to Dwalin. Probably ‘what the hell he was doing there, get off of my lawn you big lump’.

Before answering Dwalin threw a quick glance over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table and his friends before he… dropped down on one knee?

“What the hell…?” Glóin looked like his eyes would pop out any second now. Normally Thorin would burst out laughing at his friend making such a ridiculous face, but he was too busy staring at Dwalin with an equally shocked expression.

“This is so great, I wish I had a camera!” Nori gleefully cackled. The whole hall seemed to grow quiet as the other students started to notice the scene Dwalin was causing. Only slight whispers could be heard while all eyes were directed towards the Hufflepuff table.

“Is he going to propose?” Thorin heard the whisperings of a girl further down the Slytherin table and he barely managed to hold back his eye roll – partly because his eyes were still busy watching his best friend make a fool out of himself in front of the whole school.

“What are you doing?!” Bilbos frantic hiss could be heard in all of the Great Hall. He looked around him at all the people watching and Thorin couldn’t help but notice his face had come to resemble the exact shade of red of the tomatoes all the Hufflepuffs liked to brag about.

Dwalin cleared his throat and declared in a loud and clear voice:” I, Dwalin Durin, hereby give my sincerest apologies to you, Bilbo Baggins, for ever doubting you, your talents or your family. Will you accept my apology?”

Bilbo looked like a wide-eyed bambi. He also seemed to think there might have been a misunderstanding. Thorin could relate to that feeling. “What are you talking about?” The Hufflepuff wanted to know. “At our first meeting I, as well as my friend,” At this moment Dwalin gave a pointed glare towards Thorin. Dwalin continued.” Did not leave the best kind of a first impression and insulted you and your family. I’d like to take that back and apologize for my behaviour. Will you accept my apology and my offer to make it up to you?”

Bilbos face showed an exasperated smile. “Will you stand up if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I accept your apology. Now get up before this gets even more embarrassing then it already is.” Bilbo offered Dwalin his hand. When Dwalin took it, the whole hall started clapping and laughing. Thorin could still see his best friend, who was now talking with Bilbo and apparently his friends – they could also be his family, Hufflepuff was full of the Baggins family – before promptly taking a seat next to Bilbo and starting to eat.

“Ok… what was that?” Without him noticing, Frerin had come over to Thorin and was now standing behind him, staring at the idyllic picture of Dwalin and Bilbo eating breakfast together.

“An apology. A little bit over the top, I’ll have to admit, but still way more than Thorin will ever accomplish.” Thorin stomped his foot heavily onto Noris as retribution. “Shut up.”

“Well, seemed like he one-upped you brother dear.”

“Who? Is that why you’re making such a constipated face? Or has someone hexed you or something?” Dís said as she dropped into Thorins field of vision, effective blocking his sight of Bilbo.

“Dís! You missed it!” Glóin grinned at her.

“What did I miss?”

“IT!” Nori said cheerfully.

“And what’s it?” Dís raised her eyebrow at the both of them.

“The humiliating apology from Dwalin to Bilbo. Some even thought he would propose, right here in the Great Hall.” Frerin cackled gleefully.

“It’s was glorious!”

Thorin couldn’t quite hide his grin, even though Dwalins actions put him in a tight spot. He had to apologize to the Hufflepuff and soon, god damnit!

Dís only looked from one to the other, then turned around and saw Dwalin sitting next to Bilbo. “Damnit! Thorin, you big loaf, why couldn’t you apologize first? I lost so much money!”

“You bet on me?“ Thorin frowned at his little sister.

“Yes, and I learned my lesson. Next time I’m betting against you. But Nori offered such good odds…”

“Hey!” Nori looked affronted at her. “Why are you ratting me out?”

“You opened a betting pool on me?” Thorin slowly turned to his left where his sneaky friend was inching away from him.

“Aaaand that is my cue to go! See you guys later!” With that said he disappeared so quickly, Thorin almost believed that he disapparated.

* * *

 

When Bilbo had finished his breakfast and turned to find Primula at the Gryffindor table, she has already left the hall. He had wanted to congratulate her before classes started, since he wouldn’t get to see her till Herbology, which was later this morning. Now he had to carry her present around with him all through the first two periods. Internally he cursed his short attention span when food was involved. In his defence, today had been a rather eventful morning and he wasn’t the only one who had been distracted. It wasn’t every day one of the scariest people at school dropped down on one knee in front of you and begged for your forgiveness and joined you for breakfast after. All in all it had been a rather eventful morning. But now he had to get to class and after that he had to give Prim her present before someone else tried to eat it.

The first two periods went by rather quick and uneventful, for which Bilbo was grateful. He didn’t think he could handle it, if more unexpected things started happening so early in the day. When all of the fifth year students met up in front of the greenhouses for third and fourth period, Bilbo spotted Primula standing together with Frerin and Víli. As he walked over to them he noticed that someone had written “Birthday Girl” in bright pink letters on her back, which clashed horribly with her red and gold Gryffindor ensemble. She didn’t seem to notice or rather care, as she was smiling broadly. She made eye-contact with Bilbo and squealed. “There you are! I have been waiting for you to come over all morning! Where is my present?”

“Congratulations Prim.”

“Shut it Baggins! I want my cake!”

Bilbo rolled his eyes at her fondly before opening his bag and taking out a small chocolate cake. He had baked it himself, the house elves having been so kind as to let him use the kitchens.

“That looks delicious!” Frerin almost started drooling as Prim carefully placed the cake into her own bag and out of reach of everyone else.

“Where did you get it?” Víli wanted to know.

“I made it myself.” Bilbo shrugged.

“You can BAKE?” came the surprised question from Frerin.

“Well, yeah… where else would I get a cake from?”

“You can buy cake.”

“But I like giving gifts I made myself. I fell like they are worth more than anything you could ever buy.”

“And that is why you’re my favourite!” Prim grins before slinging her arms around Bilbos shoulders and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Everyone’s your favourite Prim.” Hamfast and Ori chorus next to them just before Professor Radagast arrives and starts ushering them all into Greenhouse five.

After they all have taken their seats the Herbology Professor starts to outline the content of this lesson.

“We will continue with the plant diary. Today we will concentrate on this beautiful little guy here.” He points to a small bush dotted with purple flowers. On the underside of the plant Bilbo can barely make out two tendrils. “He may look harmless, but his flowers are poisonous and he is a carnivore!” The Professor continues.

Bilbo turns towards Frerin who is looking at the little plant with a kind of apprehension one would usually reserve for a fire spitting dragon.

The Hufflepuff claps him encouragingly on the shoulder. “Come one, it won’t bite you.”

Frerin looks at him as if he was crazy. “You did hear that Professor Radagast just told us this thing eats meat, right? It can bite me!”

“But only a little and only if you’re not careful.” Bilbo smirks in response and pulls on his dragon-leather gloves. “Ready?”

“Will you wait if I say ‘no’?”

“Not a chance.”

* * *

 

“Now, before you all leave in a frenzy, I have something for you. I graded the test from last week. I used the criteria from your upcoming O.W.L.s.”

Out of the corner of his eyes Bilbo saw how Frerin paled. He wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the test or the giant mouth the bush had been hiding underneath his foliage, but if he had to guess, he would bet on the first option.

“Hey.” Bilbo lightly nudged Frerin with his elbow. “It won’t be so bad. You knew most of the answers. We studied like crazy for weeks.”

Frerin turned huge frightened eyes at him. “But what if I was wrong? What if my answers were bullshit?”

“Either way we will continue to study and at the end of the year you will pass your O.W.L.s. This is only a small test, nothing major.”

Next to him Frerin gave a week nod and watched as Professor Radagast continued down the aisle between desks. When he stopped next to their table he handed Bilbo his test with a smile. “As usual, a perfect score Mr. Baggins.” Bilbo barely looked at his test, since the nervousness had now overcome him too and he held his breath as the Herbology teacher turned to Frerin with a stern expression.

“Mr. Durin.” He started as he looked down at the Slytherins test.

“Yes?” Frerins answer came out shaking.

The Professor suddenly broke out into a smile and said: “Well done.”, before handing him the test.

Frerin took his test with a hopeful face and looked at it. Then looked at it again. Then he looked at Bilbo. “Pinch me.”

He did. “And?”

“The grade is still there. Then it’s real, right?”

“Probably. What did you get?”

Frerin smile was a slow growing thing, almost like the sun was creeping out behind the clouds until it was so blinding you had to close your eyes. ‘Poetic’, his mind supplied. ‘Shut up.’ He chastised himself.

“It’s an ‘E’! An ‘Expectations exceeded’! I NEVER had such a good grade in Herbology, like, EVER!”

Frerin whooped before throwing his arms around Bilbo. “It’s all thanks to you! You’re the best!”

Bilbo grinned alongside his friend. “I knew you could do it. But don’t get too excited, it was after all only a small test.”

“Who cares? My parents are going to freak when I’ll tell them!”

* * *

 

Thorin prided himself with the fact that he wasn’t easily surprised. His siblings had a hard time pranking him – not that they wouldn’t try vehemently even up to this day – and he wasn’t lightly fooled. So when he heard a shrill calling of his name behind his back, he could honestly say that he hadn’t been expecting his younger brother launching himself at his back and tackling him to the floor.

“Thorin! Thorin, guess what!” Frerin was slightly shaking him. Dwalin was not helping, standing next to them and bending over with laughter.

Thorin caught the hands of his sibling and stared exasperated up at him. “You hit your head?”

“No, why would I have hit my head?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you are tackling me in the hallway like a crazy person who has escaped from the closed station and are now using me as a cushion to sit on, which by the way, is not very comfortable. And I think I may have hit my head on the way down.”

“… that was a lot of words. I stopped listening mid-sentences. What are you trying to tell me?”

Thorin sighed, released Frerins hands and rubbed his temples. “Get. Up.”

Frerin jumped up, deliberately kicking him in the stomach in the process. “But Thorin, guess what just happened?”

“I hit the floor.” Thorin answered drily while getting up and dusting off his clothes. Seriously, what was Mr. Alfred doing all day if he wasn’t cleaning?

“I meant to me! Guess what just happened to me!”

“What happened kid? Tell me, I can’t handle the suspense any longer.” Dwalin interjected while drying the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.

“I got an ‘E’ on my Herbology test!”

Dwalin snorted. “Sure. And I’m in an relationship with the bastard Professor’s elk.”

“Guys! I’m serious!” Frerin cried and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper.

Thorin took it. It was an Herbology test, this was Frerins handwriting and at the bottom really was the grade ‘E’ with a badly drawn Professor Radagast next to it and a speech bubble which said ‘Well done!’.

“Well, I’ll be damned, Bilbos tutoring really did pay off, aye? Congratulations kid!” Dwalin said and threw an arm around Frerins shoulder.

Thorin looked at his brother and smiled one his rare smiles. “Well done Frerin, I’m proud of you.”

Frerin preened, before his smile turned into a smirk.

“Speaking of Bilbo. If you want to one-up Dwalin with the apology, you should give him a hand-made gift. That’ll win you a lot of points.”

Thorin answer was only a groan as he let his head sink into his hand.

 


	7. Getting Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Library or Labyrinth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!!!  
> And I have added my lovely beta as a co-author because she is just as important for the ff.  
> I apologize for the long wait and promise to try harder in the future!  
> Enjoy =)

_‘I can’t deny it any longer‘_ , Thorin sighed internally. _‘I’m an actual creep and a stalker.’_

He was, once again, standing in the library. Not to study, even if he had a book clutched in his hand. The book was part of his cover.

 _‘It’s important to look like you belong somewhere, like you have a purpose that is not stalking. And try not to stare too much. You think you’re stealthy, but you’re really not. Trust me.’_ Nori had tried to teach him the basics of being sneaky, but from the looks and smirks Dwalin shot his way from where he was sitting with Bilbo and Frerin, Thorin didn’t think he was doing a very good job at it.

And there was that: Dwalin. Sitting with Bilbo in the library. Or walking with him in the halls. And mocking Thorin at every chance that presented itself. It was infuriating. Thorin was certain his best friend was only doing this to screw with him. Because with this newly appointed Dwalin-shaped shadow, Bilbo never was alone. And Thorin would be damned if he apologized in front of a crowd, even if that crowd only consisted of Bilbo, Frerin, Dwalin and a few of Bilbos friends. It was humiliating enough that he had to apologize in the first place. And there was no way around the fact that he had to tell Bilbo Baggins that he was sorry and that he had misjudged him. But that didn’t mean he had to do it in front of people.

God sometimes he really hated people.

In his head he could practically hear Dís say: _‘Sometimes you hate everything, dear brother of mine.’_ But that wasn’t true.

Stones were ok. They were downright pretty, especially when the light hit them just right. While he was so deep in thought Thorin didn’t notice how he had started to walk aimlessly down the aisles of books until, when he looked up, he had absolutely no idea where he was. Why was this freaking library so big anyway? Hadn’t they anticipated that people could get lost in here? People, mind you, not Thorin. He wasn’t so much as lost as a little bit directionally challenged. He had been attending Hogwarts for almost six years; he could find his way out of this damned library, no problem. And after he accomplished that he would apologize to Bilbo.

With confidence in himself Thorin began walking again – sadly in the opposite direction of the exit.

* * *

 

“How long do you suppose is he keeping on doing that?” Bilbo asked casually while skimming over Frerins newest addition to his plant diary.

“Who’s doing what?” the youngest Durin answered distracted from where he was leaning over his Transfiguration homework.

He had an ink stain on the tip of his nose because of how close he was hovering over his parchment. Bilbo had already suggested once or twice that Frerin should check if he needed classes, but up to this point the Gryffindor had been to vain to even think about it. _‘No one in my family ever needed glasses.’_ He had said. _‘So I won’t either.’_ Bilbo had only shrugged and resolved to let Frerin suffer until he admitted he needed glasses. Some people were too stubborn for their own good.

“Your brother is once again standing behind the book shelf over there and is trying not to be noticed.” Bilbo waved his hand mindlessly in the general direction of where Thorin was “hiding”.

“Oh well, in his defence, he is getting better. The tips Nori gave him seem to be working.” Frerin squinted to where Bilbo was pointing. “Still, a little bit better than being “the worst” at something is still not the equivalent of good.” Dwalin muttered from behind the book which he had laid over his face to cover his eyes. “But why is he doing it in the first place?” Bilbo wanted to know. He let out a little exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

“Because he is stupid.” Dwalin supplied unhelpfully.

“Because he is awkward.” Frerin said and kicked Dwalin under the table. Dwalin promptly kicked back. Frerin let out a yelp and fell from his chair. Dwalin laughed until he was pulled down as well. Bilbo laid his head on the table and sighed.

“Universe, why am I letting those two stay again?” He asked. “Because you are a nice person and can’t say no to anyone.” Ori answered, before taking the seat on Bilbos right side. “I didn’t know you were the new spokesperson for the universe.”

“Out there many things you don’t know yet, young Padawan.”

“What…?”

“Nothing. Tell me: Why is Thorin standing behind that bookcase over there?” Ori wanted to know. “That was my question too, but the answers were either unhelpful or not satisfactory.”

“Maybe you need to ask him yourself.” Ori suggested while he watched as Dwalin and Frerin rolled around on the floor. “And why would I do that?” Bilbo raised on eyebrow and looked at Ori. “Please, do tell.”

“Well, for starters, you would know why he is following you.”

“If he is even answering me.” Bilbo argued. “And maybe you could convince him to stop following you.” Ori continued on as if he hadn’t heard Bilbos interruption. “IF he is even answering me.” Bilbo crossed his arms. Ori turned towards Bilbo and crossed his arms in mocking and said: “If he is not answering you, you can rip him a new one. Maybe that will teach him.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m usually are.”

“I am fairly good at yelling if the need arises.”

“I am aware. I think the Ravenclaw from last year is still changing corridors when he sees you.” Ori smirked. “And if you need inspiration, look over there.” Bilbos gaze followed Oris finger to Dwalin and Frerin, who stood slumped over in front of the Librarian who was busy “tearing them a new one”, like Ori had so eloquently put it. Bilbo shook his head. “I told them that they were in a library, not at the Quidditch Pitch. I still can’t believe how they survived this long.” Bilbo squared his shoulders and gave Ori a determined look. “I’ll go talk to Thorin now.”

He turned towards where he’d last seen Thorin, but the Slytherin wasn’t there anymore. Bilbos shoulders slumped. Had he left already? Just in time, when Bilbo had decided to end this back and forth. Slightly disappointed he turned back to his book. In that moment Dwalin and Frerin came back to their table and fell into their chairs.

“Hey, where did Thorin go?” Frerin asked, his brow lightly furrowed. Bilbo shrugged. “I don’t know. One minute he was here, the next he was gone. I’d reckon he’s left.” “He can’t have left, we would’ve seen him. He had to pass us on his way to the exit.” Frerin said.

In that moment Dwalin groaned and put his face in his hands. “Not again!” “You don’t think…?” Frerin seemed hesitant to ask. “Of course I think! It’s Thorin, that’d be typical of him.” Bilbo and Ori looked confused from one Durin to the other. “What has Thorin done?” Bilbo wanted to know. Dwalin let his hands fall from his face and looked at Bilbo. “He probably got lost.” Bilbo blinked owlishly at the Slytherin. “He got lost?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“… in the library?” Ori tried to clarify.

“Yes, he has a terrible sense of direction.” Frerin explained while he rubbed his forehead. Dwalin said “Sometimes I’m afraid he’ll lose his way from the common room to our dorms. For a while it was fun…”.

“… until it really, really wasn’t anymore.” Frerin continued.

“Well, if that’s the case, there’s no way around it.” Bilbo stood up and faced the rows of books behind them. “Let’s split up and find him.”

* * *

 

 _‘Another thing I can’t deny any longer’_ Thorin thought. _‘I am lost. In the library.’_

If Dís found out about this she would probably laugh so hard, that she would strain something, then hit him over the head and then laugh some more. With a frustrated groan Thorin leaned against the nearest bookshelf and started sliding to the ground defeated. He would have to wait till somebody found him. He only sincerely hoped it was before the library was closing. He didn’t need the shame of losing house points on top of the rest of this disastrous day.

His stomach rumbled. _‘I knew skipping lunch in favour of Quidditch training wasn’t a good idea…’_ To distract himself he grabbed a random book out of the shelf he was leaning against and started to read.

_...Stir in flour, salt, pepper, and celery seed. Slowly stir in chicken broth and milk. Simmer over medium-low heat until thick. Remove from heat and set aside._

Well, a cooking book wasn’t going to help in this situation. He put the book back and took out another.

_...In a large bowl, combine the beef, egg, onion, milk and bread OR cracker crumbs. Season with salt and pepper to taste and place in a lightly greased…_

Thorin glared at the book in his hand. _‘This is ridiculous. Of course I’m stranded in the cooking section of the library.’_ Frustrated, he placed the book back on the shelf, crossed his arms over his chest and let himself sink to the floor with a defeated sigh.

He must’ve fallen asleep, since the next thing he noticed was someone hesitantly shaking his shoulder while calling out to him.

“Thorin? Thorin, You shouldn’t sleep here; the library is not the best place for a nap,” a hushed voice whispered intently “Or at least the floor isn’t.”

Thorin’s head snapped up and he sluggishly blinked up at a smiling face. “Wha…?” He mumbled his response as he tried to look at the person in front of him. With each slow blink came another part of the person into focus.

“Bilbo…? What are you doing here?” Before the younger boy could answer, they were rudely interrupted by the loud growling coming from Thorin’s stomach. The Slytherin could feel his face heat up and keenly wished for a hole to open up and swallow him whole.

Bilbo just grinned before he answered. “Saving you from starvation, apparently.” He rummaged through his bag, pulled out a chocolate bar from Honeydukes and held it out to the older boy. Thorin hesitantly took it out of Bilbo’s hand. Instead of standing, Bilbo sat down next to him, pulled out another chocolate bar and started eating.

Thorin glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, still not sure if this was really happening. “I’m not one to share my food lightly, so if you won’t eat it, I will.”

As if on cue, Thorin’s stomach let out another loud growl. He glowered at it. _‘Traitor,’_ he thought before taking a bite out of the candy.

They both sat next to each other for a while, eating their chocolate in silence. _‘This is the perfect opportunity to apologize.’_ He opened his mouth to speak, but Bilbo beat him to it.

“So, Thorin…,” he began nonchalantly, “care to tell me why you’ve been following me around for the past few days?” Next to him, Thorin turned to Bilbo with a startled look on his face. Bilbo was barely able to contain his laughter. “You didn’t seriously think you were being sneaky, right? Because if that’s the case, then you need to work on your skills.” Thorin’s face heated up once more till he was as red as a ripe tomato. Now Bilbo was chuckling, the sight was too funny not to.

Thorin swallowed hard before opening his mouth. “I wish to… apologize,” he said without meeting Bilbo’s eyes. Apologizing was hard enough, but he refused to answer the question about his terrible sense of direction.

“By trying to stalk me?”

“I wasn’t stalking you! I was just… observing. And I’ve been waiting for the right time.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want to inconvenience you like Dwalin did!”

“No, I meant why do you want to apologize?” Thorin stuttered a little, his eyes jumping from the bookshelves to Bilbo, to the floor, back to Bilbo before settling somewhere between Bilbo’s nose and his collar.

“I want to apologize for the things I said.”

“What do you mean exactly?” Bilbo asked before he began listing all the things Thorin had said to him. ”The time you insulted my family by saying we were lesser wizards and comparing us to grocers? Or the time you insulted my house by saying only worthless wizards, again, like my family, are chosen for Hufflepuff? Or the time when you told me that our worthlessness was a known fact instead of an insult from an arrogant Durin without manners? Or the most recent time when you followed me around all of Hogwarts, which, by the way, is a huge invasion of my privacy.”

Thorin’s still very red face was stuck in between looking stunned and horrified. It took him a moment to recover his ability to speak. When he did, it still wasn’t very eloquent. “Yes.”

“Yes to what, Thorin? You need to use your words; I know you can if you want to.”

“… To all of the above, I think.”

“Do you think or do you know? There is a vast difference.”

“I know,” Thorin growled. He seemed kind of frustrated with the younger Hufflepuff. Bilbo felt very smug and internally patted himself on the back for his accomplishment. “Good.” Bilbo kept staring at Thorin expectantly.

“What is it?” the Slytherin wanted to know.

“I’m waiting.”

Thorin lifted his eyebrow in question. “For what?”

“The apology, of course.” Bilbo rolled his eyes before crossing his arms and looking at the older boy with a raised eyebrow of his own. “You said that you wished to apologize to me. Go on, I’m listening.”

“I’m sorry,” Thorin said through gritted teeth, while glaring at the Hufflepuff.

“That doesn’t sound very sincere.”

The older boy heaved a sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Then he straightened his shoulders and looked Bilbo square in the eyes. “Bilbo Baggins, I sincerely apologize for insulting you, your family and your house. What I said was uninformed, uncalled for and based on prejudice and stereotypes.” Bilbo squirmed slightly under Thorin’s intense gaze. He felt his face heating up while he averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

“See?” he said. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Thorin gave him a blank look. “Right.” Bilbo cleared his throat one more time before offering his hand to Thorin in a handshake. “Let’s do this properly this time round. My name is Bilbo Baggins. I’m a fifth year Hufflepuff in Hogwarts. Nice to meet you.”

Thorin rolled his eyes at Bilbo, but he took his hand with a small smile and shook it. “I’m Thorin Durin, a sixth year Slytherin. At your service.”

“Finally!” a new voice exclaimed from behind the bookshelf. Dwalin, Frerin and Ori stepped into their row, while Frerin dramatically gestured into their direction. “Took you long enough, big brother.”

Thorin stood up and offered Bilbo his hand to help him up, while glowering at the newcomers. “How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

“Long enough to know that Nori owes me some money.” Ori said with a sly smile. Four heads whipped around to look at him.

“You betted on me?” Bilbo asked incredulously.

“Don’t worry, I’ll share my winnings.”

“And how much is that exactly?”

“About 10 sickles.”

Dwalin groaned. “Can we just get out of here? I’m starving.” As if in agreement, Thorin’s stomach started growling again. With a slight pink touch to his cheeks, he nodded. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

They started heading towards the exit when Bilbo walked up next to him and whispered, “Don’t think I’ve overlooked that you haven’t answered my question, you know, about how you got lost in the library?” With a cheeky look thrown Thorin’s way, the Hufflepuff picked up his pace and walked next to Ori.

Dwalin clapped Thorin on the shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretching across his lips . “Don’t you feel so much better after you’ve apologized?”

Thorin rolled his eyes and slapped Dwalin across the back of his head.


	8. Diagon Alley Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listening to some music! It's totally not a date!

“Bilbo! You’ll never guess what just happened!“

Bilbo blinked owlishly into the face of Frerin, who had suddenly appeared in front of him. Where had the other boy come from? Bilbo had looked over his shoulder for merely a second to see if his enthusiastic followers from the first year were still trailing him through the Hogwarts Express, which was taking the majority of the student body back to London for the Autumn Break, and when he’d looked back Frerin was standing before him, grinning like a maniac.

“Um… no?” Frerin’s face was awfully close. Bilbo noticed with fascination that Frerin’s brown eyes shone golden when the light hit them just right.

 _‘I prefer blue eyes… Thorin has pretty eyes.’_ He stopped. Where had that thought even come from?

While Bilbo had to wrangle with his new found realization about the older Durin’s eyes, Frerin had continued to talk, completely oblivious to the fact that Bilbo wasn’t paying him any attention. Now he looked at him with obvious expectation that the Hufflepuff felt bad for drifting off.

“Sorry, Frerin, could you say that again? I was distracted by how close your face is.”

“I am very distracting, aren’t I?” Frerin said with a smug little grin, before backing off a little. “I was just saying that my parents wrote to me! They are over the roof with excitement that I finally get decent grades in Herbology and decided to let me go to the concert of the _Weird Sisters_!”

“The one in London? I thought that was sold out month ago?”

“Well, yes. But it seems to have its perks to be a Durin.” Frerin made a face at that, as if he wasn’t all that comfortable with his family’s influence. Bilbo just rolled his eyes and decided not to comment since he had only made his peace with Thorin a few days prior. “That’s great, Frerin,” he said instead. “Did you know that Prim is going there as well? Her parents gave her two tickets for her birthday earlier this month. She plans on asking Drogo to come along.”

“For real? She finally had the courage to ask him out?” Frerin seemed to vibrate with excitement at that. “Not yet.” Bilbo chuckled. “I think she is still working up to that. But maybe it’ll help when you tell her that you could meet up at the concert.”

“That’s a great idea! I’ll go talk to her right now. I’ll see you later?” the Gryffindor asked. Bilbo nodded. “Yeah, just finishing my round of the train, then I’ll come visit you in your compartments later.”

“OK, see you then!” Frerin said, before turning around and running down the aisle, almost bowling three second years over in his excitement.

* * *

When the Hogwarts Express pulled into Kings Cross Station Bilbo was ready to call it a day. He hadn’t managed to meet his friends due to an all-out duel in one of the compartments between a fourth year Ravenclaw and a fifth year Gryffindor. Not only did they blow up the interior of the cabin, additionally both of them had now tentacles growing out of their faces and other places of their bodies, which Bilbo absolutely did not want to think about.

Since he had been the first prefect on the scene, it fell to him to make sure everyone was taken care of and to write the explanatory letters to both sets of parents as well as the school. When everything was over and done with, most of the students had already left. The few remaining were either prefects themselves or had trouble calming their struggling pets. Bilbo’s eyes landed on his parents who had taken a seat at the edge of the platform and were watching him with amused faces.

He placed Mervin’s cage on top of his luggage cart, which had been left for him by Dori – God bless his soul – and pushed it over to them.

“Are you done, son?” his father asked with a friendly smile while standing up from his seat and offering his hand to his wife. “Yes, I’m done. Done with school, done with being a prefect and done with everything else,” Bilbo answered with a little, exasperated sigh. “I’m quite ready for two weeks off doing nothing but reading, relaxing and a bit of gardening with you two.” His parents laughed before hugging him. His father took the cart and together they walked through the gate of platform 9 ¾.

* * *

“Thooooorin!” With a loud thump his little brother let himself fall face-down onto Thorin’s unmade bed. The dark-haired boy turned on his desk chair to look at the rather pitiful sight that was Frerin.

“Yes?” he inquired with a little bit of trepidation. The last time Frerin had come to him like this, the younger boy had managed to get Thorin to help out with cleaning the attic. Up to this day, he didn’t know why he had agreed. He vowed to himself to stay strong this time around and not fall for the his brother’s puppy dog eyes.

Frerin’s answer was a loud mumble of words which Thorin couldn’t understand, due to the fact that the face of the blond was still pressed firmly into the mattress.

“Come again?”

Frerin repeated his mumbling just a tiny bit louder. Thorin let out a sigh and picked up his discarded Quidditch shirt from the floor to throw it at his brother. “One more time, please, but without the blanket stuffed into your mouth!”

Frerin lifted his head and threw a long-suffering look at the older Durin. “Víli is ill!”

“So?”

“Now he can’t come with me to the concert tomorrow!”

“That’s unfortunate. But I don’t see how this is such a huge deal that you had to come here to sulk.” At that Frerin seemed to grow tired of holding his head up and flopped onto his back. He threw his hands into the air for dramatic flair, Thorin was sure of it. “Dad says I’m not allowed to go on my own.” He let one of his arms drop onto his face to cover his eyes.

“Then ask Daín.”

“Already did that. He is busy. Like everyone else!”

“Have you asked…?” He was interrupted by Frerin saying, “I already asked everyone I would want to go with.”

“Ok. Then why are you here?” Frerin moved his arm to look at Thorin with one eye.

“Can’t you come with me?”

Thorin blinked. “Me?”

“Yes! It’s either taking you or not going at all.”

“Wow, Frerin, I feel so loved right now,” Thorin said in a deadpan voice. Frerin snorted out a laugh and raised his one visible eyebrow at him. “Come on, as if you’dd take me anywhere you wanted to go to with your friends.”

“Point taken. Still not coming with you.” Frerin sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “What?! Why not?” he cried out. Thorin shrugged. “It’s not really my kind of music.” Frerin threw up his arms again in indignation. “It’s the _Weird Sisters_. It’s everyone’s type of music.”

“Well, obviously I’m not everyone.” With that said Thorin turned his chair back around towards his desk.

“Believe me, I noticed. Come on, Thorin! Please!” Thorin could practically feel the sad eyes his brother was aiming at him now. He had to stay strong. “No.”

He could hear movement behind him and when he risked a glance over his shoulder he saw that his brother had stood up and was creeping closer to him. “Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

Thorin snapped his eyes back to his desk. “No.”

“I’ll do your chores for the next two weeks.” That was a tempting offer, but… “You do realize that we only have a week left at home.”

“I’ll do your chores next week and the two weeks of Christmas break!” An even more tempting offer, but Thorin had vowed to stay strong, damnit! “No.”

“Thorin, just do your brother this favor.”

Both Frerin and himself whirled around to see their father standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest and he was looking at them with an amused smile. “But…!” Thorin tried to intervene, but his father was apparently having none of it. “Thorin. Please.”

Damnit.

“Urgh, fine! I’ll go with you.” Now it was Thorin’s turn to throw up his hands, only this time in defeat. “Yes! Thank you!” Frerin cheered before skipping out of the room. Thorin let out an annoyed groan and rested his head on his table.

* * *

Bilbo was mildly annoyed. He had such wonderful plans for this break, namely doing nothing beside reading, resting and helping his parents with their garden. He had planned to maybe visit his friends, but nothing more than a few social visits around Hobbington. What he most definitely hadn’t planned was a trip to London.

He decided to once again ask his friend, who was tugging persistently on his arm and leading him down the Diagon Alley towards the small plaza in front of _Gringotts_. “Tell me again, Prim, Why exactly did I have to go with you? What happened to asking Drogo?”

“Shut up, Bilbo!” was the rather short answer.

He decided to try and push a little further. After all he would welcome it if his two oldest friends would finally become a couple, after they had been dancing around each other for the last year or so. “You don’t mean to tell me you chickened out at the last minute, do you?”

Prim threw him a nasty glare over her shoulder. “Shut it or I’ll tell Lobelia about Mr. Boggins.”

“… you wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Baggins, just try me.” After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he said, “I hate you. You’re an evil woman.”

“I am aware.” Her answering grin was very smug.

“That smug look makes you look very unattractive, I let you know.”

“Don’t kid yourself, I’m cute as hell.”

“Which is, incidentally, where you came from, yes?”

“Got it in one. Now come on, I don’t wanna be late.” Bilbo smothered a snort. As if he’d ever been late in his entire live. Preposterous!

They hurried down the street while to their left and right candles were being lit. Bats were flying over their heads, in front of _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ three ghost owls were grooming their feathers and next to _Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions_ were a group of skeletons who were dancing a waltz dressed in the finest the shop had to offer.

Bilbo had to admit that it was quite a sight to see the Diagon Alley in all those Halloween decorations. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he had anticipated – even if he wasn’t quite such a raging fan of the _Weird Sisters_ like seemingly the rest of the Wizarding World. At least he would be able to eat tasty candy.

Even from a distance the concert area was easy to spot. It had been illuminated with hundreds of flying jack-o’-lanterns and bats which seemed to glow in the dark. Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

_‘I don’t want to know what they fed the bats to get them to glow like that…‘_

In that moment Prim tugged at his arm and pointed to a blond figure waving at them excitedly from the other end of the street. “Look! There‘s Frerin!“

She released his arm to quickly make her way over to the other Gryffindor while Bilbo chose to follow at a more sedate pace. He idly scanned the crowd surrounding Frerin for Víli, but stopped short as he spotted a familiar dark-haired shape instead of another blond one.

What was Thorin doing here?

* * *

Why was Bilbo here?

Thorin hadn’t anticipated meeting the small Hufflepuff. Frerin had told him he’d meet with a friend from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Bilbo was not a Gryffindor and he was most definitely not on the Quidditch team.

He was unsure how to proceed with this new situation. He would have been fine with little to no interaction with Frerin’s friends, watching the concert and then dragging his brother home. But he couldn’t ignore Bilbo. They had just reached a truce and Thorin had already made several bad impressions. He didn’t need to be even more rude. Also, he didn’t want to ignore Bilbo. In his weeks of, well…, _observing_ the younger boy he had discovered that Bilbo was friendly and polite towards almost everyone, always tried to help students who were in trouble, especially the younger ones; he was a responsible prefect and took his duties very seriously and, as he had discovered in his detention, was highly resourceful and sneaky if he wanted to be.

This Baggins kid was more intriguing than he had thought. He wanted to know more. So he had to talk to him, since more … _observing_ was out of the question. That left him with one problem: How to start a conversation without sounding like a complete idiot.

He wasn’t sure if there even was a topic they could talk about. The younger boy loved books and Herbology while Thorin spent all his free time playing Quidditch. Neither would do well for a conversation.

Maybe he could talk about the music? If Bilbo was here, then he seemed to like this kind of music, right? Even though Thorin wasn’t a big fan of the band it would do as an ice-breaker. Or food. Maybe they could talk about the food. Wasn’t there a saying about affection and food?

 _‘Not that I want his affection. Just his friendship… or something.’_ Thorin thought.

“Thorin, are you blushing?” Frerin asked bemused.

“No, it’s just getting cold.”

“Huh,” was the unbelieving reply before his brother was being tackled by the brown haired girl who’d arrived together with Bilbo. Thorin knew her from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but he wasn’t quite able to recall her name. But if he had to guess he would say she was a Baggins. He could practically see Dís disapproving look in his mind’s eye at that thought.

While he was lost in his thoughts both Bilbo and the girl had finished greeting Frerin and, from the expectant looks all three were giving him, him. He gave a curt nod in reply, which seemed to satisfy his brother who then turned back to the girl. “Hey Prim, did you see that they are selling band shirts?”

“For real?”

“Yeah, right over there!” A manic grin spread over Prim’s face. “I want ten. Show me!” With a look towards Bilbo and Thorin she added, “Don’t go anywhere, we’ll be right back.” After that the brown haired girl disappeared into the growing crowd, Frerin following closely behind. “Wait up, Prim, you don’t even know where you need to go!”

In their wake they left Thorin all alone with Bilbo… and an awkward silence which he was determined to break.

 _‘Come on Thorin, you can do this.’_ But once again Bilbo beat him to it. “So, Thorin, are you also a fan of the Weird Sisters?” The Hufflepuff looked up at him curiously.

_‘There seems to be a pattern here…’_

“Uhm… no, not really.” As soon as his answer had left his mouth, Thorin winced. He could’ve lied. What if Bilbo was a fan and would take offence? He seemed to do that to a lot of things Thorin said or did.

Seemingly confused Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you here if not for the band? I thought Frerin was planning on taking Víli.”

At that Thorin awkwardly scratched his head and looked over the crowd surrounding them. “Víli fell ill and no one else had time and our father wouldn’t let him go on his own, so I volunteered to take him.” He explained. When he looked back at Bilbo, the younger boy had a soft smile on his face. “That’s very nice of you.”

“W-well… he wouldn’t stop whining and I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, so…”

“My point still stands. And by the way,” Bilbo’s smile turned cheeky as he leaned in a little closer, as if to share a secret, “I’m not really a fan either.”

Thorin gave him an incredulous look before barking out a laugh. They both shared an easy smile, before Bilbo’s gaze fell to the crowd around them. “I think I’m going to get something to eat. Would you like to join me?” Bilbo asked. Thorin hesitated.

“I should probably look for Frerin. I am supposed to keep an eye on him…” He trailed of, looking unsurely in the general direction in which Frerin had vanished with the bubbly Gryffindor girl.

“Suit yourself,” Bilbo answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m starving. And I’m pretty sure Primula is going to find me sooner or later. She always does that, sometimes it’s a little unnerving.” Bilbo shot him a wry grin. “I’ll see you later?”

“Definitely,” Thorin agreed before the Hufflepuff boy wandered off towards the food stalls which had been set up around the plaza. Thorin watched him walk away, before he realized with a start what exactly he was doing. He was acting like a lost puppy. He shook his head, straightened his shoulders and started to push through the crowd in search of his younger brother.

“Thorin!” Frerin exclaimed when Thorin finally found him. “Where’s Bilbo!?”

It seemed his sibling had spent all of his allowance on merchandise – since he was covered in it. Thorin could see a new shirt, a few buttons and pins, a rolled up poster and a scarf. “Do I want to know how much money you spent in the last fifteen minutes?” the older Slytherin asked while rubbing his hand over his brow as if to ward of the start of a headache.

“You really don’t,” came the reply from a grinning Primula who was as covered as Frerin. “But you haven’t answered the question, Where is Bilbo? Did you leave him all on his own?”

Thorin didn’t like the reproachful tone of her voice. “No, I didn’t leave him. He wanted to get food, I wanted to find Frerin and keep him from spending all of his money. I hope he had more luck than me.”

“Indeed he’s had more luck than you, it seems,” Bilbo chipped in from behind Thorin’s back. The brown haired boy had returned without him noticing, a Pumpkin Pasty and a Butterbeer in hand.

 _‘He really can be sneaky if he wants to…’_ Thorin mused while Frerin and Primula started to drag Bilbo to the stage where the lights had started to dim. With a fond smile on his face Thorin started walking after them.

* * *

“That was amazing!” Frerin shouted at the top of his lungs while stretching his arms up above his head.

“It sure was!” Primula giggled excited. Then she wrapped her arms around Bilbo’s neck and smirked at him. “You know, it was a good thing you went with me instead of Drogo.”

Bilbo raised his eyebrow at her. “How come?”

“Well, you see, if he had been here I would have felt kinda bad about swooning about Dunstan Trengrove, with him being my, you know…” she trailed off, a slight blush covering her cheek. He cleared his throat to get her out of her fantasy and back to the reason why he had been a better escort than his cousin. “Anyway!” she continued. “As I was saying, I would have felt a little bit bad. But with you here I even had someone to swoon with me!” She grinned brightly up at him.

He snorted before saying, “What can I say? Men with long hair are my weakness.”

“And don’t forget the blue eyes,” Primula sighed. “Never!” Bilbo imitated her dreamy sigh.

Frerin chuckled before interrupting, “Dude, gay.”

Bilbo stuck up his nose at Frerin. “I would certainly hope so. If I didn’t sound gay I would be doing something wrong. As I am gay, you know.”

Thorin made a choked sound in his throat but Bilbo ignored that in favour of waggling his eyebrows at Frerin. With a certain twinkle in his eye the Gryffindor leaned closer to them both and mock-whispered. “I too thought that Dunstan is swoon-worthy.”

All three erupted in a full-out laughing fit and couldn’t seem to stop for several minutes. When they were finally able to catch their breaths, Thorin, who had been standing beside them the entire time, cleared his throat. “I think it’s time to go home, Frerin, or I don’t think our father is letting either of us out again until we’re old and grey like he is.”

Frerin sighed in dismay. “I think you’re right.”

He hugged Primula which was proving to be difficult, since she was still hanging off of Bilbo’s neck and refusing to let go. With a shit-eating grin Frerin stretched his arms a little further and just hugged them both at the same time. “I’ll see you both at school!” he said before letting go and turning towards his brother.

“See you two!” Bilbo looked at Thorin with a warm smile. Thorin nodded back but for some reason couldn’t meet his eyes. Bilbo furrowed his brow. He thought they had overcome the awkward stage. The whole evening it had seemed as if everything was fine between them. Had he been to straight-forward? But Thorin himself wasn’t that much of a closet person.

Well, except when he had been making out with Geffrey Babcock in one of the supply closets near the Great Hall. He was watching as the Durins walked away and as soon as they were out of hearing range, Primula deadpanned, ”Stop staring at his ass, Mr. Baggins.”

“Right back at ya.”


	9. Giant pets and meddling wizards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People come and people go.

”I can’t take it anymore! I need a break from all _this_!“ Frerin gestured to the books in front of him and  dramatically laid his head onto the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

Lobelia raised an eyebrow at him and took a sip of her tea before replying, “It’s not even been a week, you big baby.”

Without lifting his head from the table he pointed at the girl sitting across from him, “Well, it’s been the longest none-week of my life!”

“Cheer up, Buttercup! Remember what day today is!” Primula grinned at him and poked at his sides. With a high-pitched squeak, that he would deny for all eternity, Frerin shot up from his place on the bench, lost his balance and landed flat on his ass.

When the laughter had subsided, Frerin raised his head from his hiding place underneath the bench to find Bilbo and Drogo standing behind Lobelia, both still chuckling.

“Haha, very funny,” Frerin hissed at them.

“Yes, very.” Bilbo agreed with a wink.

“So, Prim, what were you talking about earlier? You said something about today?” Frerin heaved himself back onto his seat, looking at her expectantly.

“The rival schools, silly! They are arriving today!”

“How could you forget? It’s only all everybody has been talking about.” Víli, who was sitting at his right, shot him an incredulous look as he tried to steal the waffles from Frerin’s plate. Frerin stabbed him with a fork.

“I was busy, okay? I had Quidditch training!”

“So did we,” Primula, Víli and Fortinbras chorused.

“And I had my study sessions with Bilbo!”

“Can’t really call them study lessons, since all we did was talk about everything besides school,” Bilbo chipped in.

Frerin shot him a dirty look, mouthing ‘ _Traitor_!’ in his direction. Bilbo shrugged his shoulders unapologetically.

“Back on topic!” Primula interrupted. “Rival schools! No classes after lunch!”

“Now that’s good news!”

“I hate to interrupt,” Ori dropped in, “but I think we’ll be late if you prattlers keep gossiping!”

Bilbo took a quick look at his watch before letting out a yell.

* * *

 

Lunch time that day was a very rough affair. Everyone had speculations about how the rival schools would arrive, how many students they would bring, where they would be housed and what the feast that evening would be like. Because of said feast lunch consisted only of sandwiches, since the kitchen were busy preparing for the evening.

When the leftover food had vanished from the golden plates, Professor Elrond stood up from his seat. The whole hall had fallen silent and was watching the headmaster.

He let his gaze linger on each table for a short while and gave all students a secretive smile.

“I think it’s time to greet our guests.” With that the other teachers stood up as well. Each house was accompanied by their head teacher and the prefects as they left the Great Hall. Once outside, they were lined up by year

Since Bilbo was a prefect, his place was at the one end of the line, while another prefect, most likely Bell, was standing at the other end. That way they could intervene if students got a little too excited. His position put him right next to Professor Gandalf. Gandalf was talking to Radagast when an agitated whisper passed through the rows of students and a few pointed up at the sky.  Bilbo saw Professor Gandalf look up and smile.

“Ah,” he said with a bright smile, “the eagles are coming.”

 

When the Hufflepuff looked up he was able to spot dark dots in the horizon over Hogsmead, coming closer and getting bigger. Within five minutes they were above the school grounds, circling each other and flying into a suitable landing formation. This close Bilbo could make out figures riding on top of the flying animals.

 

‘ _That has to be awfully cold right now._ ’ He himself was freezing a little and he was on the ground, wearing a cloak over his normal school robe.

After all riders had dismounted, the gigantic birds took off again. “Is that really alright…?” Bilbo trailed off while looking after the majestic creatures.

“It is fine, my dear Master Baggins.” Gandalf told him. “They are no pets or labour animals. They are an intelligent species and allied with Beauxbatons. They have more important matters to attend; you can’t expect them to hang around the school grounds for almost a year!”

 

Beauxbatons’ headmaster excused himself from Elrond’s side after a short initial greeting and walked over to the other teachers. He was tall and had a narrow frame and bright blond, almost white hair. He stopped in front of the Astronomy Professor and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “My Galadriel, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

The female Professor gave him a lovely smile and took his hand. “It is nice to see you outside of the holidays, my dear Celebron.”

While the adults had started to mingle, the students were still standing a good distance apart and eyed each other carefully. One of the older students stepped forward towards Professor Elrond and extended his hand. “My name is Éomer Rohan, prefect, honoured to be here.” He too was tall, had dark blond hair and a muscular build. “It has been a long journey, Professor, most of the students are already tired or growing restless.” He motioned in the general direction of Beauxbatons students, some huddled together, many leaning against each other. “Can you show us where we’re meant to build our housing?”

Elrond smiled sympathetically, then signalled for Beorn to take the foreign students to the gardens and greenhouses. Éomer took charge of his fellow students and followed after the animagus.

 

Professor Thranduil let out an annoyed sigh and glanced at his watch. “They are late.”

Next to him Professor Bard grumbled, “What else did you expect?” while crossing his arms.

“I expected him to have at least an ounce of respect, but sadly I seem to be mistaken.”

“No need to be impatient, my friends. Maybe they were merely delayed,” Elrond cut in with an placating tone.

Frerin looked around his fellow classmates. “Does anyone else feel the ground shaking or is it just me again?” he asked, his voice echoing faintly in the cool morning air.

“It’s just you,” Lobelia answered with a sneer.

Bilbo looked down at his feet. “No, I feel it, too.” He could feel a rumbling in the earth that seemed to grow in intensity.

Gandalf groaned. “Please, don’t tell me they are using _them_.”

 

When the shaking reached its peak, a loud crash could be heard from the gardens, followed by the loud yelling of the Beauxbatons students. The Hogwarts crowd started towards the gardens. A few prefects and teachers tried to remind them not to run, but most of the student body didn’t care enough to listen to them.

The scene in the gardens was strongly reminiscent of a warzone. Where once the garden had been was now a big hole in the ground. Responsible for this mess? Apparently the gigantic worm that was withdrawing back into the earth just then. The younger students screamed in terror, while the teachers tried to calm them down.

“My garden! It is ruined!” Radagast cried out desperately.

“And just when I was getting better at Herbology! This couldn’t have happened when I still sucked, couldn’t it?”

“Not helping, Frerin.” Primula nudged him with her elbow, then pointed to Bilbo. “Think about how he must feel.”

Bilbo had turned white like a sheet. After a few seconds he murmured, “This is… so incredibly rude.”

“This is awesome!” cried Víli. “It’s like that movie that came out a few years ago, _Monster Worms_.”

The echo of footsteps was resounding from the hole left by the Earthworm, growing louder and louder until a gaggle of dusty people crawled to the surface.

“Are those…?” Bilbo started.

“Durmstrang,” Thorin sneered, who had suddenly appeared next to them. “They’re here.”

“Do you think he’s here, too?” Frerin asked.

“Who is here?” Bilbo glanced between the two brothers. “And where did you come from, anyway?”

Thorin cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Should I leave again?”

Bilbo flushed a little and made an indignant noise. “Didn’t say that,” he grumbled, then cleared his throat. “Now, who were you two talking about?”

Thorin's face darkened as he pointed towards a very pale and tall student who had emerged as one of the first. “Him. Bolg Uruk-hai. His family and mine have never been on the best of terms, for over two generations it’s literally become a feud, though.”

“So, he isn’t a nice person or…?”

“He is the worst kind of person,” Frerin answered. Wide-eyed, Bilbo looked at the Gryffindor. Frerin had a sunny temper and seemed inclined to like anyone. He even had some nice words about Lobelia from time to time. For him to outright state something like that, this Bolg person had to be one hell of a dick.

 

In the meantime Professor Elrond had approached the group and seemed to hold a very tense conversation with the Headmaster of Durmstrang.  When they parted and the Durmstrangs marched off towards the lake, Bilbo saw that the headmaster’s scarred face was twisted in annoyance.

 

The divination teacher turned to his own students, “Due to the rather… unusual method of travel I would ask all of you to stay in your own houses until the feast tonight. The prefects are responsible until then while the teachers help clean up this mess.”

 

Bilbo groaned lowly.

 

“Well, great.”

* * *

The evening arrived relatively quickly and with it came the anticipated feast.

“I think my stomach is trying to eat itself!” Frerin moaned as he grabbed his stomach in a histrionic gesture.

“You’re worse than Primula sometimes.” Lobelia rolled her eyes at Frerin.

Fortinbras turned towards the Brandybuck girl. “Not going to say anything to this, are you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I do eat a lot. I can’t be offended at something that’s true. And I am hungry, too.”

The doors to the Great Hall opened and the Beauxbatons’ entered, Éomer Rohan once again in the lead. He glanced around the hall and after a short consideration led the other students towards the Ravenclaw table and took a seat.

“He seems full of himself. Just taking the lead, not waiting for anyone else’s input.”

“I think he just wants to look out for the others. He’s confident.”

“He should’ve picked our table!” A little dumbfounded, the two girls looked at Frerin.

“And why is that?” Primula wanted to know. “If they sat with us, then the Durmstrangs couldn’t choose our table. I don’t want that piece of shit near me.” Daín and Víli nodded next to him.

“Maybe you’re in luck,” Fortinbras grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at him, “and he wants to stay as far away as possible from you, too.”

“Let’s find out,” Daín grumbled, nodding towards the open doors, where just in this moment the students of their other rival school were stepping through.

While the headmaster headed straight towards the teachers table, the students stopped at the threshold, Bolg in their lead. The pale boy let his gaze wander slowly over all four tables and started to sneer when he spotted Thorin and Frerin. He turned away from them and walked towards the Hufflepuff table.

Frerin groaned again and buried his head in his hands. “I don’t know if I’m relieved that he is not sitting with us or horrified that Bilbo and the others are forced to share with him.”

“Both?” Víli asked at the same time as Lobelia. The two looked at each other, grinned and asked again, “Both?” before turning simultaneously to Frerin and exclaiming: “Both is good!”

Frerin blinked at them slowly.  

“Just ignore them,” he mumbled to himself.

 

Bilbo was eyeing their new table mates with a sceptic look. Sure, Frerin and Thorin seemed to be in a hate-hate-relationship with this school, but they couldn’t all be bad, could they? For one, the guy who sat next to Bilbo and his group of friends seemed friendly. A little bit rugged with his long brown hair and the first signs of stubble on his chin and jaw, but he had greeted them with a polite smile and behaved himself up until now.

The food arrived and Bilbo ignored the newcomers in favour of the delicious food appearing before him. Many dishes were unknown to him and he was eager to try them all.

 

After the last course had been dished out, Bilbo heard a deep voice over the clatter of tableware and cutlery, ”Of course I’m sure that I’m going to participate in the tournament!”

When he turned his head he identified the speaker as Bolg Uruk-hai, the guy who had been pointed out by Thorin earlier that day. A young, wide-eyed Hufflepuff girl asked, “But how do you know that?”

The tall boy smirked at her and answered, “Cause I’m the obvious choice.”

Next to Bilbo the long-haired Durmstrang student snorted. “He’s the only choice. The rest of us were _advised_ not to participate because of _the dangers for oneself_.”

Bilbo raised one eyebrow. “That seems awfully considerate of them.”

“You have no idea.” The older boy gave him a wry grin. “My name’s Aragon, by the way. Aragorn Strider.” He leaned back and extended his hand. Bilbo took it and replied, “Bilbo Baggins. Nice to meet you.”

 

The leftover food vanished and left the golden plate spotless. At the teacher’s table, Elrond stood up. When he had all of the attention and the last murmurs had died down he spread his arms wide and let his gaze wander from table to table.

“Welcome!“ he said. “To all our honoured guests, I hope you will enjoy our stay at our school! All of us will try to make you feel as at home as possible! Let's make the most out of this unique chance and form new bonds and friendships and broaden our cultural horizons!“

He once again glanced across the tables, all the while smiling a secretive half-smile. “I can see that all of you are very impatient to get to the main event of this meeting, but before we proceed let me introduce our guests.”

He turned to his left where the headmasters of the other two schools were seated. “It is with great pleasure that I can introduce Professor Celebron and Professor Azog to you. They will be part of the jury which will decide the results of the tournament.” He turned to his right. “These are Cassandra Blackman, our country's Minister of Magic, and Jim Saltson, who is going to act as a stand in tonight, since our final judge is sadly absent for the evening.”

 

Quickly, Mr. Saltson rose from his seat.  “I’m honoured to be here tonight”, he announced stiffly, “and apologize on behalf of my superior, Mr. Thráin Durin, who had to deal with an issue at the Ministry which could not be delayed. He will join all of you tomorrow when the chosen champions will be announced.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Saltson,” Elrond responded while the ministry clerk took his seat again. “The last to introduce would be me. I am Professor Elrond and I will be the fifth judge. Now,” he began and pointed at the doors to the hall, “Mr. Alfred will bring in the reason we're all here for tonight.” The doors opened and the Hogwarts’ slimy-looking janitor entered the hall, in his hands a casket covered in jewels. His journey across the hall and towards the teachers table was being avidly tracked by hundreds of pairs of eyes. He placed the casket onto the three-legged stool which usually held the Sorting Hat and stepped away to his usual place at the wall.

Elrond emerged from behind the table and touched his wand to the casket. It melted away and revealed the worn down wooden goblet.

„As for the rules of this tournament, every student of all three schools is permitted to try and participate…“ A sudden excited murmur went through the Great Hall. “If they are already of age,” Elrond continued. He winked at the students who let out a long groan.

 

“For a second I thought he was being serious…,” came the disappointed grumble from Frerin.

Víli grinned and nudged him with his elbow. “As if you’d take part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

“I could have!” was the young Durin’s indignant answer. “But that’s beside the point. Dwalin or Thorin could have entered! I bet one of them could win this thing!”

“Both of you, shut up! Elrond’s still talking!” Lobelia hissed from her place two seat away.

 

“Every eligible candidate can throw his name into the goblet. The deadline is tomorrow evening right before we start the Halloween feast. After all of us have eaten and enjoyed ourselves we will commence with the announcement of the chosen champions. We will also let you know when the first trial will be held.”

 

“This is kind of disappointing, don’t you think?” Nori casually leaned against the table while looking at Thorin and Dwalin.

“What is?” Dwalin wanted to know.

“That none of us have the chance to participate. We’re all too young.”

“We just have to live with it. I’m not too keen on trying and breaking the rules on this one.” Thorin shrugged.

“And besides,” Dwalin said, “Balin told me that he wants to try.”

That made Nori perk up. “Balin? That would be interesting.”

Glóin nodded in agreement. “And his chances of getting chosen aren’t half bad. He is intelligent, determined and has been duelling since entering Hogwarts.”

 

“All true. I just hope he is going to be a champion and that slimy son of a bitch Bolg isn’t.”

“I hope Bolg gets chosen,” Thorin said. His friend looked at him like he had grown a second head. “And why would you want that?” Dwalin whispered incredulously.

Thorin looked over at the Hufflepuff table where Bolg and the other Durmstrang pupils were sitting. “I hope he gets chosen,” Thorin repeated flatly. “So that Balin can kick his ass in public.”

 

Dwalin let out a snorting laugh. Nori shot Thorin a sly smirk. “Public humiliation. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What can I say,” the black-haired boy deadpanned. “That ass brings out the best of me.”

 

“Watcha guys talking about?” Frerin was leaning on  Dwalin’s shoulders. “Balin is going to get chosen as the Hogwarts Champion and will smash Bolg into a pulp.” Glóin summarized for the youngest Durin.

Frerin furrowed his brow.

“It’s obvious,” Thorin said while standing up and lifting his younger brother up from Dwalin. “No one is better suited as the Hogwarts champion. And Azog is Bolg’s father and the headmaster of Durmstrang. I’m pretty sure he’s going to make sure no one but his son places their name into the goblet.”

Frerin let out an outraged squeal at being manhandled before following Thorin and his friends who were in the process of leaving the Great Hall.

* * *

Gandalf yawned.

 

He hated drawing straws. Somehow it was always him who had to do the debatable honour. He had a feeling the other teachers were all cheating, he just knew it! However, without any proof he had to endure these tasks nonetheless. Next time he simply needed to cheat as well, he told himself.

 

He was tasked with the last shift of watching the goblet before breakfast started and Mr. Alfred would take watch till lunch. “Graveyard-shift”, as Saruman had informed him with a friendly tone of voice and a shit-eating smirk.

 

_‘Hmmm, maybe he should arrange for Saruman to eat some.’_

 

Gandalf snickered. That would be hilarious. But he was an adult, a teacher. He had to be an role model and not encourage the students to play pranks on the adults. Not that they needed any form of encouragement, they were creative enough on their own. However, sometimes it didn’t hurt to give them a little push in the right direction.

 

_‘Speaking of push…’_

 

The door to the Great Hall opened just wide enough for a lanky frame to push through. He was the sixth tonight who wanted to throw his name into the goblet under the cover of darkness. Normally it wouldn’t be tolerated for a student to be out of bed this late, or early for that matter, but since this was a special occasion, the teachers decided to loosen the rules a bit for the night.

 

Not that they had told the students. Where would be the fun in that? It was far more entertaining to watch them slinking around the shadows, desperately trying not to be noticed.

 

The newcomer looked away from the door towards the middle of the Great Hall. Illuminated by the blue flames of the goblet Gandalf was able to identify the symbol of Durmstrang on his robes. He had long dark hair, his face showing nothing but grim determination. Gandalf frowned.

_He seems familiar…_

From his spot on the teachers’ table he watched as the boy was suddenly grabbed from just outside the doors and pulled back into the entrance hall. The charms teacher stood up from his seat, pulled his borrowed invisibility cloak tighter around his frame and started towards the doors. The closer he got the better he could hear what sounded like a struggle. When he entered the entrance hall he saw that the boy had been cornered from two other youths of his school.

 

“What are you doing, Strider? You know we aren’t supposed to throw our names in!”

“But that’s not fair! Why should Azog get to decide who is allowed to participate and who isn’t? All of us should get the chance!” he replied hot-headedly.

“We know that!” one of them hissed. “But you should know better! You’ve seen the kinds of detentions and punishments he likes to dish out. Just let it go! You can’t win this.”

 

Gandalf raised one of his bushy eyebrows. This wasn’t a fight, these were friends trying to prevent each other from getting into trouble. Even though, it seemed that he needed to talk with Elrond about this.

 

Either way, those three boys needed to decide if they wanted to throw in their names or get back into bed.

 

Casually he kicked one of the armours standing guard at the doors in the shin. The rattle was quite loud and the wounded suit let out a shocked noise.

 

The three guys whirled around to look at the piece of metal which was now scrubbing at his shin as if to make sure there was no lasting damage. It had been a while since it had been oiled, so the creaking noise echoed loud and clear through the entire hall and would surely drift up the stairs.

The tallest of the group started towards the exit. “Let’s go before someone comes down here and finds us,” he hissed before turning around and leaving. The other boy turned towards Aragon and hesitantly said his name.

The long-haired boy seemed torn between following his friends and going back into the Great Hall. After a few seconds and several looks between his friend and the door, Aragon seemed to deflate and nod his head.

“Let’s get back.”

Both boys headed towards the exit. Gandalf watched them with a thoughtful expression on his face – not that anyone could see it, but it was still there. After a minute he sighed and shook his head. He veered back around towards the Hall, but stopped. He looked back over his shoulder and frowned again.

 _‘Did someone just pass through those doors?’_ After a little while he shrugged and went back to his seat. _‘Must’ve been my imagination.’_


	10. I was not expecting this...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen!

_‘Why am I this nervous? It’s nothing unusual…’_

Bilbo shuffled on his feet nervously _._

_‘The only thing different is that there are a few more people this year like Frerin, Dwalin and…_

_Thorin.’_  

 

Thinking about presenting those cookies to Thorin let his heart beat a little faster and heat crawl up his collar. He shook his head vigorously and continued on his path down to the Quidditch pitch where the Slytherin team had been training for over an hour.

 

Even though it was the night of the Halloween feast and the announcement of the champions, Thorin had insisted on not slacking off if they wanted a chance at winning the Quidditch Cup and they had to train whenever possible. Bilbo smiled to himself. He rather liked Thorin’s determined streak. He was different than Frerin who was more of an _‘It’ll work out somehow’_ kind of guy. If he thought about it there were a lot of things he rather liked about the older Durin brother, but if he went down that road he would never gather his nerves and deliver those cookies. And then he would probably eat them himself and feel like a failure.

He reached the edge of the stadium and looked around. Most of the team was already leaving, only four players were still in the air, going through different manoeuvres: Nori, Dís, Dwalin and Thorin.

 

Nori spotted him first and landed before him.

“So, here to spy on us, are you?” He grinned. Behind him the others touched the ground.

“Stop pestering him, Nori.” came Dwalin’s rather gruff reprimand  accompanied by a slap to the back of Nori’s head.

“Ow! No need to get violent, Papa Bear!” He rubbed the tender spot and glared at the Beater.

 

Bilbo grinned and stole a quick glance in Thorin’s direction. The older boy had an exasperated expression on his face, but his eyes twinkled with glee. Bilbo could look at those blue eyes all night, if he let him...  Well, anyway, he’d actually had plan in mind before he came down to the pitch. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I have something for you.”

The bickering between Dwalin and Nori stopped and all four Slytherins turned to face him.

“You have something... for us?” Thorin looked dumbfounded. It was adorable.

 

“Yes, since it’s Halloween I have spooky-themed cookies for everyone.” He pointed to the box in his hand before opening the lid. “Go on, try some!”

Without hesitating Dwalin grabbed a bat-shaped cookie and bit off a wing. His eyes went wide but he said nothing. Nori and Dís too grabbed on each and took a bite. Only Thorin seemed uncertain. Bilbo felt his disappointment creeping in.

Dís was letting out an obscene noises as she chewed loudly, her eyes in bliss. “Dear god, Bilbo! Where did you buy these!? They are to die for!” Dwalin and Nori chose not to comment. Instead they took another cookie.

Bilbo furrowed his brow. “Why do all of you always think I’m buying the treats I’m giving away? I made these myself.”

“You made these cookies? For us?”

“Yes, Thorin. It’s called a present.” Bilbo grinned. He couldn’t help himself, Thorin looked just as unsure and flushed as the time when he apologized in the library.

The older boy grabbed a cookie faster than Bilbo could register and bit into it. Bilbo beamed.

“Do you like it?”

Thorin nodded before taking another one. “Thank you,” he mumbled before turning around and grabbing his broom. “Let’s get changed, the feast is about to start.” He looked over his shoulder at Bilbo. “Would you wait for us?” he asked stiffly, fumbling with his hair before tugging it behind his ears which were burning bright red. He cleared his throat and added,. “Then you won’t have to walk back to the castle by yourself.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I’m a big boy and, unlike other people, have an excellent sense of direction.” In a sudden burst of bravery, he grinned and winked at Thorin. To his immense pleasure the Slytherin flushed even redder and started mumbling incoherently as he walked briskly towards the changing rooms. The other three teens were cackling with glee before following their captain.

_‘That went... better than expected.’_

* * *

“I knew you were a bit obsessed with Bilbo, but I didn’t know it was this bad!” Nori was still giggling while he changed out of his Quidditch robes.

“Shut up!” Thorin  pressed his face against the wall. His cheeks were still a vivid shade of red and he couldn’t get them to cool down. Every time he tried, his mind conjured an image of Bilbo _fucking_ winking at him. He came to realize, he was stupidly attracted to this guy. He couldn’t handle it, Bilbo was just _so_ cute.

“Earth to Thorin! Are you even listening to me?” Nori jabbed his elbow into Thorin’s back. In retaliation Thorin threw a stinking sock after him.

“Seriously, though, Thorin, you need to do something about that crush of yours,” Dwalin told him with a smirk. “It’s starting to get embarrassing.”  

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Leave him alone.” Dís interrupted unexpectedly as she walked into the room. “Only I can tell him what to do.” She turned to Thorin. “Seriously, though, Thorin, you need to do something about that crush of yours. It’s starting to get embarrassing.”

“I hate all of you. Leave me alone.”

“We’ll leave you alone. Alone with Bilbo.” Nori wiggled his eyebrows at him before dashing out the door. Dís and Dwalin followed suit and left him standing half-dressed in the locker room.

“Well… _shit_.” He dressed quickly, already panicking on the inside.

_‘And once again I need to hold a conversation with him and once again I don’t know what to say. Bloody perfect.’_

When he exited the building Bilbo was leaning against the wall, waiting for him. He seemed nervous and was fidgeting with his sleeve. He jumped when Thorin approached him and the older boy could see a flush creep onto the Hufflepuff’s cheeks.

 _‘CUTE.’_ His mind supplied unhelpfully. Thorin cleared his throat and tried to will away the blush forming on his own cheeks. “So you decided to wait for me?”

Bilbo gave him a wry grin. “I couldn’t let them ditch you completely now, could I?”

“Thanks.” Thorin gave him an honest smile. Bilbo almost choked on his own spit.

“Are you ok?” the Slytherin asked worriedly.

Bilbo waved his concerns away. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. We should get going or they’ll start the feast without us.”

They slowly made their way back up the hill towards the castle.

 _‘And the awkward silence begins. Say something, Thorin!’_ “So… do you like Halloween?”

“Yeah, what’s not to like? The food’s great and celebrating can be a lot of fun, with the right company...” Bilbo paused, side-eyeing Thorin for a second. “Even though I get scared easily.” he admitted and was met with a smile. “What about you?”

“It’s fun. As a kid I liked scaring Frerin and Dís. Every year since then they tried to pay me back, but I always see right through their schemes.” Thorin grinned whimsically, “They swore that they’d get me one day. I guess we’ll see about that.”

“That sounds fun, I can’t really relate, though, I don’t have any siblings. I have many cousins but that’s not quite the same, even though I’m very close with quite a few of them.”

“You don’t have any siblings?” Thorin threw him an incredulous look. “But you’re so good with younger children, I just assumed...”

“No, only many, many cousins. Thanks for the compliment, though.”

After that their conversation seemed to flow easily between the two of them. When they reached the Great Hall Thorin felt himself reluctant to part from him.

“I’ll see you later?” Bilbo asked.

“Yes. See you later,” Thorin answered. Bilbo looked at him for just a moment, then turned around and headed towards the door on the other side of the hall. Before losing his courage completely, Thorin blurted, “Are you…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Are you going to be at the Halloween party tonight? You know, the one down in the dungeons?”

Bilbo stopped to look at him. “Ah, I don’t know yet.” He scratched the back of his head. “I must confess, I’ve never been to one of those parties.”

“You should come," Thorin felt his face grow hot. “It would be more fun if you’re there.”  He closed his eyes for a second, cringing internally. _Wow. Awkward much?_

For a short moment Bilbo was the one to look dumbstruck, but then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Well, if that’s the case, maybe I will come. See you later, Thorin!” With a wave and a wink, he turned around and disappeared through the door, leaving Thorin slightly dazed.

_I might have to actually thank Nori this time._

* * *

 

“Bilbo, are you alright? You seem a little out of it today.”

Bilbo jumped and turned to look at his cousin. “What? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Drogo rolled his eyes at him before repeating the question.

“Sorry, I don’t know myself. Ever since this afternoon I’m a little… caught up in my own thoughts, I guess.” Bilbo grinned sheepishly.

Drogo raised his eyebrows. “I can see that. The food has been standing on the table for about five minutes and you haven’t even looked at it yet.”

Surprised, Bilbo looked over atthe golden plates that littered the Hufflepuff table. True to what his cousin had said, the Halloween feast had already started and all students were busy loading their plates. He hadn’t even noticed the constant noise of cutlery hitting dishes.

“Oh.”

“Yes ‘Oh’. Care to tell me what’s gotten into you?”

“It’s nothing, really. Nothing’s wrong, anyway. Things... have happened, which I didn’t expect to happen and now I’m … thinking about them.”

For a few seconds Drogo looked at him, then sighed, shoveling more pumpkin onto his plate. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

“What?” the Hufflepuff prefect sputtered out, looking scandalized.  

“You obviously have a crush, Bilbo. I’ve known you for forever and a day. I know the signs.” Drogo stated calmly while taking a scoop from a bowl of mashed potatoes.

“I don’t like this patronizing tone of yours,” Bilbo grumbled as hestarted to fill his own plate.

_My father would be appalled. Food going unnoticed!_

“So, are you going to tell me his name or do you want me to guess?” Drogo continued.

“Whose name?” Hamfast asked as he leaned over Drogo’s plate to get to the mashed potatoes himself. “Is this about Bilbo’s crush?”

“Why does everybody think I have a crush?” Bilbo complained.

Drogo simply rolled his eyes in lieu of an answer.

“You two really want to talk about obvious crushes with me? You really want go there?” Bilbo pointedly looking at Bell a few seats down the table and Primula sitting over with the other Gryffindors. Both Drogo and Hamfast blushed and cleared their throats.

“I didn’t think so. Now let me eat in peace.”

“I can’t even comment on how a certain Quidditch captain is staring at you?”

“Thorin is staring at me?” Bilbo whirled around to look at the Slytherin table. To his disappointment Thorin seemed to be in a heated argument with Dwalin who was wearing a smug smirk. Then Nori nudged Thorin with his elbow and pointed at him. Before Bilbo could look away Thorin’s gaze met his. Bilbo flushed and gave an awkward wave. To his delight Thorin smiled at him and waved back. He couldn’t help but notice that the older boy also had a rosy colour on his cheeks. Giddily, Bilbo turned back around where Drogo and Hamfast were looking at him with the same deadpan expression.

“Not a word, you two.” He said, all the while still smiling like an idiot.

 

Now that Bilbo was concentrating on eating and enjoying the feast, rather than dodging unwanted interrogations, he noticed that the number one topic of discussion was the upcoming announcement of the champions and who had a chance of getting chosen by the goblet.

“The champions for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are obvious.”

“Yeah, Bolg Uruk-Hai and Éomer Rohan.”  
“I’ve got to agree with Durmstrang, but did you know that Elrond’s daughter goes to school in Beauxbatons?”

“No way?”

“She’s not in Hogwarts?”

“No, she lives with her mother or something. But I heard she also entered her name.”

“That would be so cool if she was chosen instead of Éomer.”

“I still like him better.”

“Yeah, yeah. But the really interesting question is, Who is going to be the Hogwarts champion?”

“I heard Balin Durin is one of the favourites.”

“I saw Faramir Gondor enter his name. I bet he’s trying to prove his father wrong with this.”

“Adalgrim Took and Saradas Brandybuck are trying too. They said it’s time that another Hufflepuff wins the cup.”

“What about Dori Ri? Isn’t he going to enter?”

“No, he told me he has too much to do with his duties as head boy and his studies for his N.E.W.T.’s.”

“He would probably start to mother his opponents instead of trying to beat them.”

“If he’s not entering I want Balin to be named champion.”

“I think Adalgrim would be the best choice.”

“You’re both wrong. Faramir should get this chance. I would love to watch him stick it to his father that way.”

Similar conversations drifted through the whole hall until the last crumbs were cleared away from the plates and almost everyone directed their expectant eyes to the teachers table. The goblet of fire stood once again on the three-legged stool from the day before, emitting a cold glow from its blue flames.

 

Suddenly, the fire turned a deep purple. Professor Elrond stood up and announced, “It is time for the choosing of the champions.”

 

He rounded the table and stopped next to the goblet. The flames flared and spit up a charred piece of paper. Elrond caught it with one hand and started to unfold it.

“And the champion for the Durmstrang Institute is... Bolg Uruk-Hai!”

The Durmstrangs at the table started clapping, though some were more enthusiastic than others. The rest of the Great Hall joined in the applause. Nobody seemed surprised, some students even whispering about blackmail. Bolg stood up and started walking up to the teachers’ table. Professor Elrond directed him to the adjourned chamber to wait for further instructions.

When Bolg had disappeared, the goblet flared up again and another piece of paper floated through the air.

Elrond’s face was emotionless as he read aloud, ”The champion for the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is... Éowyn Rohan!”

The crowd on the Ravenclaw table was silent. Slowly all eyes looked at the pale girl who was sitting next to Éomer, his face a display of utter shock. She stood up slowly, only to be stopped by her brother taking her arm, whispering furiously. Calmly, she rested her other hand on his shoulder and spoke a few quiet words.

Slowly, he released her arm and sat back down.

“Look at him, someone’s not happy,” Bilbo whispered to Drogo.

“I don’t think he knew that she entered.” They looked a little closer at the shocked students from Beauxbatons. “From the looks of it, none of them knew.”

Éowyn walked towards the teachers’ table, her head held high and a proud, determined look on her face. The first students started clapping and soon all had joined.

After she had disappeared through the door and the students had calmed down, the goblet lit up for the third time and the last piece of paper fluttered through the air. The Hogwarts student body held their collective breaths as their Headmaster opened the folded scrap.

“And the Hogwarts champion is... Dori Ri!”

The Gryffindor table erupted in loud chaos. Everybody was cheering and clapping Dori on the shoulders.

“I thought Dori didn’t want to participate! I didn’t know he’d changed his mind!” Bilbo exclaimed.

“By the looks on their faces neither did his brothers.”

Accompanied by the loud noise of applause, Dori walked through the Great Hall and disappeared as well.

The blue flames at the front calmed down and slowly died out.

 

“The champions have been chosen! The first round of the tournament will take place on November 24 ! I hope all of you had a good time tonight and I wish all of you a happy Halloween! Now, off to bed!”

* * *

 

“Thorin!” a voice called from behind him just as he was about to leave the Great Hall.

When he turned around he saw his father following him.

“So, that was a surprising turn of events,” Thráin smiled. “I really thought Balin would be chosen.”

Thorin shrugged. “Dori will be a good champion. He is just as talented as Balin.”

“I don’t doubt it.” His father’s face darkened. “But watch your back, son. I don’t like those Uruk-Hai scums staying here at Hogwarts.”  
“I don’t like it either.”

“And watch out for your siblings, too.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Yes, father.” As if he wouldn’t do that anyway.

“One more thing.” His father pulled a wrapped parcel out of his robe. “I thought I would give it to you personally.”

Thorin took it and smiled at his father before hugging him. “Thanks, dad.”

“Stay safe, son. And don’t forget to write.”

“Will do.”

With that Thráin turned around and joined the Minister on her way out.

 

“What did dad want?” Dís had stopped next to him and looked after her father. “Just warning me to watch out for Bolg and his father. And he gave me a present.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s weird to see him at Hogwarts, don’t you think.”

Thorin nodded in agreement.


End file.
